Roommates With Benefits
by imadumbadosis
Summary: AU Brittana. Many may consider them an odd pair, but it worked for them. "Roommates with benefits" as Brittany put it.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Roommates with benefits.

Summary: Many may consider them an odd pair, but it worked for them. Roommates with benefits as Brittany put it.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee.

* * *

><p>If there was one thing Santana was certain about in her reckless life, it was her strong attraction towards blonde women.<p>

"Hey, Rico," the Latina tapped the bar counter to gain his attention, "I'll have a tequila and another martini for her."

"Mmm, thank you." the woman beside her murmured. Santana turned to the blonde, eyes making a quick once over before meeting dark, lustful blue ones. The glint within them sent a pleasant shiver down Santana. "I'll be honest, I haven't had a drink since New Years."

"That's because you have a sexy Latina willing to pay for you," she smirked.

Rico slid the drinks over as the blonde began to giggle hysterically. Santana's smile faltered and she awkwardly reached over for her drink.

"Oh, _god, _you are hil_arious_!" She threw her head back and began patting the other girl's thigh.

Honestly, at this point, Santana could care less if the woman had an annoying personality, large front teeth, and a knack to slap her reddening thigh every two minutes. She had a banging body, she was blonde, and Santana was horny. That's all it really came down to.

"How about," she stood up once the blonde wiped away the tears in her eyes, "We take this party upstairs, and I can show you just_ how_ hilarious I can be."

Okay, wow, maybe she needed some more alcohol in her system, because that was just _bad. _

Luckily for her, the other girl didn't mind at all. She jumped up and quickly wrapped both hands around Santana's left forearm, "Show me the way!"

Santana grimaced at the sudden, unwelcome contact, but swallowed her annoyance as they made their way across the club. The doors to the side never looked so welcoming as they did right then. Santana just wanted this night to be over with, get her orgasm, and sleep this crappy day away.

* * *

><p>Sometime between the flights of stairs, the tiny elevator, and the long, narrow hallways, the Latina became anxious and impatient. She shoved Melissa- Marissa?- against the wall, five doors away from her apartment, and kissed her fiercely.<p>

The blonde gasped and then giggled (for fuck's sake, did she ever stop?), "Mm, someone's-ah!-persistent." She managed to say between rough kisses.

"Shut up," Santana ordered before attacking her neck. They moved recklessly down the hall. Santana reached for her keys in her back pocket as Marissa slipped a hand underneath her shirt. "_Fuck_."

With a rush Santana was all too familiar with, she shoved the key in the hole, threw the door open, shoved Matilda against the nearest wall, slammed the door shut, and attacked the girl.

She tugged at the dress Melina was wearing, which, Santana realized, had a long ass, complicated zipper. "Ugh."

"Why don't we go to your bedroom?" The blonde asked, her eyes closed as Santana groped her right breast.

"We can do it in there too, just- help me with this fucking zipper." Her attention flickered to the brunette's fumbling fingers as she struggled with the stuck metal. "Fucking hell."

"Oh, please don't stop."

Both girls yelped and spun around at the intruding voice. A giant oaf, and Santana wasn't even exaggerating, man stood in her living room, cheeks flushed and mouth wide open. His hand clutched the door handle to the fridge, the only source of light coming from the tiny box.

"Who the fuck are you?" She shrieked stepping closer.

"Um, Finn."

With Melaine's unfazed expression, and Finn's dreamy one, Santana wanted to punch something. Hard.

"_Brittany_!"

She stalked over to the only room in the cramped apartment and shoved open the door. The sight before her didn't surprise her one bit. She walked toward the sleeping figure on the bed, opposite of her own, and shook violently."Wake up!"

The girl woke up with a start, upper body shooting upright, head almost knocking Santana in the forehead. "Wha- what's going on?"

Before Santana could start her rant, she noticed what Brittany was wearing, or, what she _wasn't_ wearing. She blushed and clamped her thighs together tightly and turned around, "Put a shirt on and come outside."

"Huh? Okay..."

Shaking the image of two perfectly, perky breasts out of her head, Santana walked back into the living room only to be met with the image of her date and _Finn_ making out in her kitchen.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She yelled in exasperation.

The two jumped back to face a very angry Santana. The blonde, whose name she gave up trying to remember, spoke first, "Tall men are my weakness..."

"Yeah, she just like-" Finn stuttered, obviously intimidated by the death glare Santana was emitting, "She jumped on me out of nowhere, and well...sorry."

Santana was about give them a piece of her mind when Brittany emerged from their bedroom, wearing only a t-shirt Santana swore was hers.

Her mind fell into the gutter as her eyes took in Brittany's complete appearance. "_B-Brittany_!"

Said blonde glanced down at her lower half, shrugging, "You only said to wear a shirt."

Santana wanted to keep staring, she honestly did. But there was a nagging feeling at the back of her head telling her to look out for the blonde. Something that had emerged three months ago when the blonde signed the lease for the apartment and became her roommate.

"Brittany, please, put some pants on." She sighed, turning around. "And you two, get out. Now."

Once the oaf and Mary exited the apartment, Santana slumped onto the only couch in the apartment. Her head fell into her open hands.

God, this day was a mess.

"Is this fine?" Brittany's voice came. Santana lifted her head to see a much more presentable Brittany before her. The 26 year-old was wearing her yellow Lakers t-shirt with gym sweats. The brunette felt a shiver run down her spine and straight to her core.

_It's just because I saw her naked. That's it. Perfectly good reason._

"Hey, where did Finn go?" Brittany asked looking around as if the oaf would appear behind the couch.

"_Finn _wasn't even suppose to be here tonight, Brittany." Santana explained anxiously, "I'm suppose to have the apartment tonight, didn't you see the calendar?"

A dumbfounded expression fell across her roommate's face, "Yeah, it said 'B' on it..."

"No! You had yesterday and Monday, I even told you this morning that I was headed to the bar after work to pick someone up for the night."

Brittany scratched her head. She took a small step backward and leaned over their cabinet to retrieve a large calendar. "See look it says 'B'." Her finger pointed to Wednesday, August 15.

"Britt...that's the dishes calendar." Santana couldn't believe her luck. She was super horny, annoyed and angry. All because of Brittany's inability to understand calendars and schedules.

Despite all of that, it was a bit difficult to be angry at her roommate.

Standing in the dim light of their kitchen, Brittany was nibbling on her bottom lip in nervousness, anticipating Santana's wrath. Her eyes were drawn in worry. Santana's features couldn't help but soften.

"Okay, look. The calendar in our room determines who has the apartment for the night. The one in the kitchen shows us who gets to wash the dishes, got it?" She explained this a million times to the other, but Brittany still couldn't get it into her head.

Brittany shook her head in understanding.

"Because you had Monday, Tuesday and tonight, I get the apartment for the rest of the week until Sunday, it's only fair, okay?"

"Does that include Friday?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I wanted Friday." Brittany said in a sad tone. Santana couldn't take pity on her, the blonde brought it on herself. "Are you going to go on a date tomorrow?"

"Well, fucking duh. I haven't had sex since last Friday!" Santana snapped.

"If you go tomorrow can I take Friday?"

Santana sighed, "No, Brittany. Can we just...go to sleep? I'm fucking tired and today sucked."

As the two made their way back into their room, Brittany pressured Santana into elaborating why it sucked so much. They both changed into their pajamas, and retreated into the comforts of their beds.

"...and then he actually dared to slap my ass."

"Oh my god, what did you do?"

"I kicked his junk. Three times." Brittany's surprised, yet impressed gasp across the room made Santana smirk in delight. This part of the night wasn't so bad. Even though she may never admit it out loud, Santana enjoyed sharing her day with her roommate, who was almost fascinated with everything. It was cute, sweet, and honestly, a breath of fresh air compared to her normal life.

Santana never dwelled on it, but if she truly thought about it, Brittany was a blessing to her life. Despite the event's that occurred just before, Brittany wasn't a bad roommate. Santana was fortunate to have found the blonde, or more accurately, fortunate the blonde came to her.

Six months ago, when the apartment bills and phone bills were piling up, when the only job Santana was able to get a grasp on was being a waitress, she decided enough was enough. She needed someone to split the rent with her, even though she lived in a one bedroom apartment.

Finding a women that would accept that one, she was gay, two, she smoked and drank, three, she had one night stand's constantly, and four, she was a bitch, wasn't what Santana would call easy.

Plus, her apartment was so fucking tiny and disgusting, she was practically doomed.

Miraculously, God, or whoever up there, brought Brittany waltzing into her life. Literally.

The girl showed up one evening with a check in one had, and a bright smile plastered to her face. Once Santana opened the door, the girl skipped in, and began complimenting everything in the apartment.

They were complete opposites. And that somehow worked.

Except for the fact that Brittany was just as, if not more, promiscuous as Santana.

It became a problem when countless nights, one would bring a date into the apartment, hoping for a casual night in bed with the stranger, only to find the other having sex in their own bed.

The first couple of nights, Brittany would suggest a foursome (Santana almost threw up at the thought of going any where near a fucking penis), and that was the final straw for the Latina.

She set up a schedule for each day of the week. If it was Santana's day, she'd either bring a date home or inform Brittany she was flying solo for the night. The two would get together and watch movies or just mind their own business. If it happened Santana did go to a bar, Brittany would stay clear of the apartment and come home at night and sleep on the couch, until the partner left. It worked both ways.

Staring up at the pitch-black ceiling, Santana realized she was nowhere near sleepy. A dull throb still lingered between her thighs and her hand itched to relieve it. At the same time though, she knew Brittany hadn't fallen asleep, either. The sound of her roommate shifting around in bed filled her ears, and Santana knew she also had a hard time sleeping.

"So...how was Finn?" Santana chose to spark up a conversation.

"Okay. He was really clumsy in bed but he was really sweet." Brittany answered.

"Where did you meet him?"

"He was watching us practice in the studio today. I thought he was weird at first 'cause he wouldn't stop drooling at my shorts," Santana raised an eyebrow, "But then Tina told me he was checking me out, so I asked him to come home with me."

"Except it was my turn tonight." Santana couldn't help but remind.

She heard Brittany giggle slightly, "I totally cock-blocked you tonight. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, whatever." she replied grumpily. She turned to her side and faced the wall, no longer in the mood to continue the conversation.

The other side of the room was silent for quite sometime. The brunette briefly wondered whether Brittany had dozed off, but the absence of heavy breathing told her otherwise.

Suddenly, a blast of cold air hit her back when Santana felt her blanket lift off her body. She jumped as an arm wrapped itself around her stomach, pushing her on her back.

"Wha-What are you-" She sputtered immediately.

"Relax." Her voice came in the darkness, breath hitting an ear hotly. Santana shivered.

"Brittany, I think you're confusing beds again, cause-"

"Just relax and enjoy this okay?" A single finger pushed back Santana's top and lightly brushed against her navel. "You've had a hard day, and you deserve to feel good."

"But you're my roommate..." Santana shuddered, grabbing Brittany's wrist. "It's not right."

Brittany lifted her arm and rested her head against her hand, giving Santana a sly smile, "I wouldn't think that would stop you."

Santana prided herself in her reputation as the chick who never said no, unless it's a guy, of course, but this- this was just unacceptable. "Look, I really think you're pretty and all, but-"

"So you think I'm pretty?"

"Well-yeah, really pretty, but that's-"

"Thanks, you're pretty, too."

Santana blushed despite herself, "Yeah, anyway, you're my roommate and- and having sex with my roommate wouldn't be so right." She couldn't stop sputtering; Brittany was giving off this heat under her sheets that was driving Santana crazy internally. Plus, the blonde was rubbing a leg slowly and lazily against Santana's.

Honestly, it took all her willpower not to jump the girl right then and there.

_Stop. This is wrong. She's your roommate. _

_But she's so fucking hot._

"You're cute when you're blushing." Suddenly, without warning, a pair of lips were attacking her neck. Some of Santana's sexual frustration managed to escape in a muffled moan.

"B-Brittanyyy..." Santana whined but made no move to stop her.

The blonde only hummed against her collarbone and moved to straddle the brunette. Her fingers moved down her side and pushed against the shirt Santana was wearing. "You're so hot."

Santana shut her eyes, the intense heat between her legs too much to bear, suddenly. She needed relief now. Her decision was made.

She found herself topless, with the blonde kissing and sucking against her cleavage. Her fingers traced the edges of her bra strap. "I know you might think things will become awkward between us, San," Brittany spoke up, mischievous eyes meeting hers, "But it doesn't have to be. I slept with my roommate in college and nothing happened."

Santana wanted to listen closer, to be reassured she's not about to make the umpteenth mistake of her life, but another part of her wanted to shut the girl up and continue with the macking.

"We could be like...roommates with benefits. But only if you want to continue this."

The brunette sighed and shut her eyes, "Let's just do this, I don't want to talk right-mmph!"

Their lips clashed for the first time. Santana sighed between the two soft, pink lips, allowing Brittany to take over. Usually, she'd be the one in charge, but something about the blonde overpowering her turned her on so much.

Brittany pressed further into Santana, straddling her hips. She set a steady rocking motion that drove Santana nearly insane. The brunette moaned. Brittany moved her kisses down her neck once again, she untangled her hand from Santana's hair and cupped the brunettes neck.

"H-holy shit." She tilted her neck back, briefly wondering why she never thought of sleeping with her roommate before.

Okay, that was a totally lie. With abs like _that_, it was hard _not _to think of jumping the blonde at any given moment. Plus, the girl loved to walk around the apartment in tight tank-tops and short shorts.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand pulling at her waistband. Santana didn't know what possessed her when she quickly grabbed Brittany's wrist and took a second to breathe.

"Wait," she muttered breathlessly. Brittany gave her a confused look. "Let's just clear some things here first, okay?"

"What are we clearing?"

"If I'm going to sleep with you, it's not going to mean anything okay? I normally have sex with people I don't know to avoid awkwardness later on." She mumbled in a rush.

Brittany seemed to consider this, "Except me?"

"Yeah, well, not because you're special- well, you are- I mean you're super hot and all, just not like, fuck I should just stop talking." Her face was beyond red now.

Brittany only grinned, unfazed by Santana's slip up. "Like I said, we can be roommates with benefits. It'll be really fun. Just sex when we can't find anyone else. Plus, I've always kinda wanted to get into your pants...you're pretty hot."

Santana blushed at her statement. Ignoring the last part, she said, "Are you doubting my ability to attract chicks?"

The other girl scoffed, "Please, I'm the hottest, most talented girl in this city and I'm having sex with you. You can't do better than me."

A part of Santana couldn't help but agree, though she wouldn't admit that out loud. "So are you going to show me how talented you are, or what?"

Brittany moaned and unexpectedly tore off Santana's underwear, flinging it across the room, leaving the brunette naked in nothing but her bra. Brittany remained fully clothed.

She wanted to comment on that, but it was extremely hard to speak without moaning when the blonde was running her fingers expertly across her sex. Two fingers circled her most sensitive spot and began rubbing furiously.

"Fuck..." She moaned out. Brittany's mouth somehow managed to lift her bra and began sucking on already hardened nipples.

Shit, this girl was _good. _

Brittany kicked Santana's legs apart further. Her thumb continued to circle her clit while Brittany shifted the rest of her hand south. Santana shut her eyes tightly as she felt them nearing closer to her scorching heat.

"You're so wet," Brittany chuckled and kissed her once more before thrusting deeply into Santana.

"Jesus, Brittany!" Santana moaned, hands coming around to grip blonde hair, "Oh, god..." At this rate, she was going to come sooner than what her pride would prefer. "Feels so good."

With two fingers thrusting slowly at first, Brittany picked up the pace. She scattered light kisses along Santana's torso as the girl beneath her became increasingly noisy.

"More," she gasped out, "Faster!"

Brittany smiled coyly and thrusted harder against tight walls. Her thumb reversed directions and it was enough to bring down the Latina. She yelled Brittany's name into the dark room, possibly waking up neighbors.

Santana was panting once Brittany lied down next to her, studying her face with mild curiosity.

"That was...that was good." Santana finally spoke. She turned her head slightly to observe the blonde and was met with strikingly blue eyes. Even in the dark, they somehow pulled Santana speechless.

"Do you feel better now?" Brittany asked.

"Hell yeah..." Something was off though, "Do you need me to...return the favor?"

Brittany shook her head, "No, Finn was fine."

Santana scowled in disgust, "Oh, yeah. _Finn._"

"He wasn't bad...just, a bit clueless. He was nice, though."

"Are you sure?" Santana asked again.

"Yeah, he paid for the entire dinner-"

"I mean, are you sure you don't want me to return the favor?" There was something incredibly wrong with calling what they just did a 'favor'. Santana decided not to dwell on it.

Brittany simply nodded and jumped up. "I'm going to bed now. Big day tomorrow at the studio."

"Oh, right." Santana frowned, "Thanks, though."

"Yep, no problem." Brittany gave her one last smile before slipping beneath her sheets.

There was something odd in the air as the two drifted off to sleep. It was the reason why a part of Santana was hesitant to sleep with her roommate. The aftermath. Awkwardness.

Closing her eyes, she pushed the feeling to the back of her head and let sleep consume her, fearing what tomorrow would bring.

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><p>AN: I'm going to tackle this story. It's going to be easy, and fun, nothing to serious like my other Brittana story. Hopefully, everyone enjoyed it so far, some feedback would be nice. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

And _this _was exactly why she didn't do brunettes.

"Yes! Oh, god! Yes!"

"Seriously? I'm not even touching you."

The woman opened her eyes and peered up at Santana, "I am very well aware of that fact. Normally, in these impromptu situations, I make it a habit to test the distance at which my voice can travel in any room. I wouldn't want to be too loud or too soft. It's an exquisite form of preparation that I highly recommend for maximum-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, can you shut the fuck up so we can get this on with?" The woman, who was probably a long lost cousin of Frodo Baggins (not that she watched that nerdy shit), was driving her insane. Santana could feel a migraine well on it's ways, which was completely absurd considering the fact that she going to have _sex. _Who the hell has headaches during sex?

"My apologies. You may now dispose of my clothing." Rachel (and she only remembered her name due to her constantly referring herself in the third person every five minutes) relaxed and adjusted herself against Santana's bed.

Santana narrowed her eyes, "I'm not your fucking slave, do it yourself!"

"Uh, I do recall that we are having sexual intercourse. It's not out of the norm for me to ask of you to unclothe me."

"Well, don't just fucking sit there, you hobbit!" Days from now she'd ask herself what the fuck was going through her mind when she decided to approach the girl at the bar. Fucking desperation, that's what.

Ever since sleeping with her roommate, Brittany, Santana couldn't get the memory of the blonde sucking on every inch of her neck, rubbing furiously against her, out of her head_. _Then again, it did only occur last night. Still, it wasn't normal for the Latina- to dwell on any single person after having sex with them. She didn't get attached.

Brittany's words also echoed in her head. _Roommates with benefits. _Did that mean they were going to do it again? And again?

Just the thought made Santana all hot and bothered again.

"Hello?" A wave of a hand brought Santana back to the irritating situation. "Honestly, are you always like this? I'll be frank with you, my friends have sp- oh, _Barbra._"

Santana did the only thing that would shut the midget up.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, and Santana still couldn't find one good thing about her decision for the night.<p>

Nothing about Rachel was sexy enough to get her remotely wet; she was practically doing all the work. Actually, she did have a nice body, but that fucking mouth of hers...

She had three fingers deep inside the brunette, moving at a rapid pace, when finally the girl reached her climax.

Expecting the usual vocals, Santana was caught off guard when Rachel began to..._sing._

She arched off the bed, eyes shut, sweat glistening off her breasts, when her mouth opened and-

"_I'm coming, I'm coming, I-I'm coming! Ou-ouutt, I-I waantttt the worlddd! To know!_"

At this point, Santana had no words. She only gaped at Rachel as she trembled beneath her, coming down from her high.

"You're really good at that," Rachel still hadn't even opened her eyes as she mumbled the words. She rolled onto her side, lifted the comforters over her naked body, and got comfy. Before Santana knew it, the girl was asleep.

Santana really had no words...

* * *

><p>"Morning."<p>

Brittany looked over her shoulder where she stood in the kitchen, cooking what smelled like bacon and eggs. She smiled, "Hey there, sleepy head."

Santana only grumbled and made her way on top of a stool.

"How was last night?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"That bad?"

Santana sighed, "She fucking _sang _when she came."

Brittany furrowed her brows, "Like she..."

"Yeah!" she nodded furiously, "Fucking Diana Ross's _I'm Coming Out_."

"That sounds cool..." she found her roommate say in awe."I've never had sex with someone that sang during an orgasm..."

"Who the hell would want to?"

Brittany giggled and focused back on the breakfast. It was only eight in the morning, and Santana knew Brittany was an early riser. Normally, she'd wake up on the weekends around noon, but that freaking Rachel chick ruined her sleep. The bitch kicked and hogged the sheets constantly throughout the night. Santana hated those types of chicks. She'd prefer it if Rachel had left for the night, but her tiny body probably couldn't handle the single orgasm, hence her passing out the moment after.

"Santana?"

She gazed up from her slumped position over the counter at Brittany, "Hmm?"

The girl was busy dividing the breakfast into two separate plates. Santana swore the portion was enough for one, briefly wondering if Brittany was sharing her own breakfast since she didn't know Santana would rise so early. This generous gesture brought a smile on her face despite her crappy mood. "Thanks," she muttered genuinely as Brittany set the plate before her.

"I don't feel like going to a bar tonight, so the apartment is all yours." Brittany settled next to her. Thoughts of two nights back crossed her mind in an instant and she immediately went for her orange juice to rid of them.

"Nah, after last night, I'm done for the weekend." She stated.

"So what are your plans for the day?" Brittany had her mouth stuffed, cheeks puffed out as she tried to chew a particularly large bite. She looked extremely cute and Santana found it hard to look away.

"Imma go out to jog for the next to hours. Do me a favor and when I get back, make sure the Rachel chick in our room is gone." Santana said with a scrunched up noes, "I do not want to see her again."

Brittany nodded and the two fell into an awkward silence as they ate. Santana was positive Brittany was thinking the same. She had hoped, due to her bubbly personality, Brittany would ease their tension along the way. But the girl was just as silent as she was. It was unnerving.

"Alright!" Santana dumped her plates into the sink and headed towards the door. Brittany jumped at her sudden outburst. "I'm going to head out now, um, remember to get rid of that dwarf." She left Brittany with a small frown.

Grabbing her tennis shoes she walked out of the apartment with a need for fresh air. At least, as fresh as Los Angeles can get.

She decided she also needed to sort out her thoughts during the walk. She had no work today, and Brittany was off from the studio, meaning, both of them would be home. The thought made Santana anxious. She picked up her pace, and let the distance between her and the apartment increase.

* * *

><p>Living in Los Angeles was pretty fucking awesome, to be honest. Santana still remembered her eighteen year-old self picking up her acceptance letter to U.C.L.A. She graduated that spring, earning a degree in political science. She had dormed the first two years, then lived with three other people in a bigger apartment than her own. Since graduation, the Latina had been in search for a job- or, worse case scenario, a graduate school.<p>

Other than her current unemployment, her crappy apartment, disgraceful job, lack of money and a car, life was pretty good in L.A.

Fuck it, her life _sucked. _Except she couldn't blame the city, with it's extraordinary weather and beaches. The only person at fault here was the fucking economy.

No one fucking told her life after college would be living _hell. _Her whole entire life was built to maintain an awesome college career, but she was never prepared for life _after _it. There was absolutely no job in the area for a political science major.

It would help if her mother at least supported her, too.

_What will you do in life with a international studies degree, mija?_

_I'm a political science major, ma! Goddammit, how can you criticize me if you don't even know what I've been doing for the past four years?_

_Don't talk to me like that, young lady!_

It was a constant bicker, back and forth, that drove her crazy. Thank God her parents lived in Ohio, though, or else she'd probably jump off a cliff by now.

So in her pursuit for a full time job, Santana begrudgingly applied to a crappy restaurant named _Shue's Steak Shop. _The owner was a college drop out with a unrealistic dream of making it to Broadway or something. He was a nice man overall, except his choice of style always made Santana want to poke her eyes out.

Rounding a corner, Santana was suddenly in front of a very familiar run down park. It was a park Brittany randomly dragged her to the first few days Brittany moved in. The girl decided that the best way to get to know each other was at a park. When Santana questioned this logic, Brittany had stated, "Where were you when you met your first friend?"

As she recalled her memories, a look of realization hit Santana. Brittany beamed, "_Exactly._"

And they had bonded a bit more. Santana found out Brittany was a professional dancer (her mind fell into the gutter for a split second) working full time at a new dance studio. She not only assists people in choreography, but teaches kids of all ages. Santana somewhat envies her life; Brittany knows what she's doing, and her life is pretty much set.

At the time, though, Santana built a mind set where she swore in a few months, Brittany would be out of her life, off finding some other roommate, or perhaps buying her own house. She knew she'd never see the blonde again, and therefore, she never sought to become closer to her roommate. Except, Brittany was the type of woman who constantly needed a friend by her side. She wiggled her way passed Santana's walls, and the brunette found herself growing fond of the bubbly blonde.

She was an awesome roommate.

Now finding herself three miles away from her apartment complex, the Latina decided it was time to turn around. Her thoughts still lingered on Brittany.

It would be a waste to let go such a close bond between her roommate over one night of sex. Despite Brittany's insistence they'd be 'roommates with benefits', Santana knew it was better if she called the whole thing off. Her relationship with someone who paid for half the rent was important, and God knows what could happen if something went wrong during their 'interactions' that would result in Brittany leaving. She needed that rent cut in half like she needed air.

So. The best thing to do is just talk with the blonde, gently let her down, and proceed with her usual every day routines.

_That is a capital idea, if I say so myself._

* * *

><p><em>Well, so much for the 'capital idea', Lopez.<em>

_Yeah, well, fuck shitty plans. I've been running on impulse since the moment I popped out of my mother's vagina and I ain't going back now._

_Look where that got you._

_In between the thighs of one of the hottest blondes in town?_

_Fuck you._

"Mmm...that feels so good." Brittany moaned at her touch. Her hands reached down and tangled with brown hair, pushing the brunette closer to her wet core. Twisting, her fingers massaged Santana's scalp, her tongue gliding and circling through folds and bundles of nerves_. _The noises Brittany was emitting encouraged her to quicken her pace, and soon her head was bobbing furiously between two gorgeous thighs.

Brittany seemed to be at lost, unable to control herself as she thrashed around on the kitchen counter top. "Yes! God, _yes!"_

She sensed the blonde was on the edge of her orgasm. She withdrew her tongue, Brittany squirmed uncomfortably from the loss of contact, and quickly replaced it with two fingers.

The dancer gasped in surprise. Santana placed her expert tongue on the sensitive clit and flicked rapidly.

"Shit, shit, shit..." Brittany grunted with each thrust. Santana would have never guessed her innocent roommate would be such a 'potty mouth' during sex. Based on the extremely wet condition her panties were in, she wasn't complaining.

With one hard thrust into Brittany's most sensitive area, the blonde flung her head back and let out a loud moan. _  
><em>

Santana couldn't hold back a smirk as she played through the moments that led up to this._  
><em>

After her walk, Santana walked into her apartment on a mission when she was met with the sight of Brittany and Rachel talking animatedly. More specifically, Rachel babbling on and on about vegetarianism or something, while Brittany just stood there, a dumbfounded expression on her face.

She kicked Rachel out before the midget could open her mouth again. Brittany was still a bit traumatized and Santana had a hard time getting the blond's mind back on track. They sat down at Santana's request, Brittany on the kitchen counter, and Santana on the island.

They began speaking of the previous nights encounter, Brittany admitting the main motive behind her advancing on Santana in bed was her ongoing desire to have sex with the Latina; she saw an opening that night. Once the brunette mentioned regretting what happened, Brittany began to pout.

Retracting her words, she stated she was flattered the blonde was attracted to her, but she couldn't risk their professional relationship with all the awkwardness.

Then, the blonde admitted the only reason why she was being quiet and awkward in the morning was because how much she wanted to do it _again._

_"I wanted you to fuck me in the kitchen." Brittany shrugged. "You looked really hot in the morning, all grumpy and mad..."_

And so there they were, finishing exactly what Brittany had desired.

And really? Who was Santana kidding? When it came to sex, the Latina could never say no. Fuck maintaining relationships, having a roommate with benefits was possibly the greatest idea ever.

* * *

><p>AN: Kind of hard to work on a fic when you only have one computer in the house, but I'll manage...Anyway, thank you all for your awesome reviews, the feedback was amazing. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, please review! And if there is anything I'm doing wrong, like in any general area, please let me know. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A few days had passed and Santana found herself zoning out at a spot under table number two, unconsciously wiping the same area on the counter over and over again. The restaurant was undergoing some construction near its entrance, deflecting all the costumers they usually had. Which was like, four.

Schuester was currently going through some paperwork in the back, leaving Santana in charge of two other co-workers. Being in charge for Santana was the highlight of her lousy afternoons. When Jacob and Lauren would get done with a task, she'd observe their work and order them to do it again, just for the heck of it. Their pouty faces and stubborn attitudes never ceased to make her laugh.

Jacob approached her from behind the counter. She outwardly cringed at him and scowled, "Ew, Jewfro, I told you, you're not allowed to come within 20 feet of me or else I'll ends you."

"S-sorry," he shifted backwards and lowered his gaze to her chest. She sighed, rolling her eyes at his obvious leering.

"What the hell do you want, didn't I go tell you to wash the dishes?"

"Uh- we have a machine that does that," he mumbled. "and we have no customers so there are no dishes."

"Well, too bad, go do it." She excused him with a flick of her wrist. Her attention was suddenly interrupted by an arrival.

Santana's eyes lit up at the appearance of a blonde woman. The guest peered around the diner and finally landed on Santana. She smirked and crossed the distance.

"Sorry, we don't serve prudes."

The woman scoffed and crossed her arms, "Wow, I can see why this place is in such a dismal state. How on Earth did anyone hire you?"

Santana smiled widely and attacked the blonde with a bone crushing hug. "Quinn!"

Quinn laughed, hugging the brunette back. "Damn, Lopez, I think this is the first time you've ever hugged anyone."

"I'm only making an exception for your skinny ass," Santana stated. She pulled back and brought Quinn over to one of the booths, sliding in. "I haven't seen you, my best friend, in like, two years, so."

Santana took in Quinn's appearance for the first time. Her high school friend was sporting a bob cut that barely reached her shoulders. She wore a pink spotted, black scarf around her neck, and a nice summer dress. But Santana's main focus was on the bob cut.

"Finally embraced the gay within you, Fabray?" She smirked.

Her friend scrunched up her nose and scowled, "What are you on?"

"I'm just saying, that's probably the gayest haircut I've ever seen. I should call you Fabgay from now on."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Satan, but not every little thing in this world has to be gay." Quinn was more amused than offended, "And I'm just changing it up a bit. No problem with that."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Maybe. If there even was a paradise."

Santana furrowed her brows, "Wait, you and Sam broke up?" Quinn nodded slightly, "Why didn't you tell me? Quinn!"

The three of them were friends during high school back in Ohio. Santana and Quinn were acquaintances up until senior year when they both realized they had no other people to depend on. They both were quite similar: hot headed, a need for power, and bitches, but somehow they managed to bury all of that to support each other. Santana, at the time, was going through identity crisis, while Quinn had seemed to have lost her mind. Her off and on again boyfriend, Sam Evans, was also part of the picture. The two were dating since recently, and to be honest, Santana could never imagined a pair more meant for each other.

"Well I was going to over Skype, but since my boss was sending me over so I decided to tell you in person." Quinn explained sheepishly. She worked for a Bio Tech company in Massachusetts. She attended college in that state, majoring in pediatrics, while working.

Santana only scowled, unhappy about not knowing her only two friends were done for the time being, "Whatever. I bet you'll get back together in two days, tops."

An uneasiness fell over her friend as she played with the salt and pepper shakers, "Actually, this time it was for good. We fought too much, and it just came to the point where we both had enough. He's moving back to Ohio."

Guilt washed over Santana. She frowned and decided to place her hand over Quinn's, reassuring her. "If you need anything, just let me know." Quinn nodded.

They were interrupted by the voice of her co-worker, Lauren. "Lopez, stop messing around and come help us."

Quinn watched as Santana gave the other a dirty look. Then, an expression came over the Latina and she began to smirk. "Zizes, I'm out for the day. Family emergency." She grasped Quinn's arm and dragged her out of the booth.

Lauren stared incredulously at them, "You can't just leave."

"Didn't I just tell you I had a family emergency? God, Zizes, be a little bit more considerate. Ungrateful twat. Come on, Quinn." With one more glare in Lauren's direction, Santana successfully pulled a confused Quinn through the doors.

* * *

><p>They decided to walk around the community, traveling up and down the roads, and eventually ending up at a large park. Kids were running around, swinging on swings while their moms occasionally bregraded them as they read their books. Santana loved coming here once in a while, away from the dismal diner, loud bars, and cramped apartment. It was relaxing.<p>

Of course, her visits had only increased in the past months due to Brittany. The blonde absolutely adored coming to the park, which had its own lake. She fed the ducks there and sometimes played in the park. Santana would only accompany her once every week.

Quinn was busy wiping melted ice cream off her fingers when she spoke up, "So how is your life, Lopez, assuming you have one?"

Santana smiled despite herself, "Horrible. Can't find a job. I have no money and I think I just stepped on gum." She lifted her shoes to inspect it as Quinn laughed.

"Well, you haven't changed much. How is your love life? Anybody you seeing? Or are you still fucking strangers every night?"

To anybody else, it may seem as though Quinn had just called her a whore. Santana knew the girl for ten years so she knew when Quinn was just kidding around. "The latter. And proud of it."

"That's very unhealthy, S. You gotta change your lifestyle a bit."

Santana grimaced, "Ugh, you've been hanging around Wheezy too much for your own good."

"What? It's not like I have anybody else out there. She's not that bad, either."

Santana was about to reply with a rude remark when she heard her name being called off in the distance. Slowly turning her head, the brunette was met with a sight that nearly made her heart skip a beat.

"Santana!" A beaming Brittany was waving towards their figures as she stood near the pond, holding a large baguette. Ducks were flapping around her feet, demanding to be fed some bread. The sun was shining just above her head, clouds rolling along the sky. "Woah."

Quinn snapped her head back at her, "What?" She followed Santana's line of sight. "Hey, isn't that your new roommate?"

At this point, Brittany was jogging towards them. She wore a loose shirt with a jean skirt. "Santana, hey! What are you doing here?"

"Um," she blinked, finally tearing her eyes away from the blonde. "Oh, this," her hands motioned at Quinn, "this is my friend from high school, Quinn. Quinn, this is my roommate, Brittany."

Brittany smiled widely and immediately pulled Quinn into her arms. Quinn let out a strangled gasp from the turn of events, "I'm so glad to meet you!" Brittany exclaimed, squeezing hard. "I've never met any of Santana's friends."

Quinn chuckled, pulling away, "That's because Santana doesn't have friends besides me."

Santana swiftly kicked her friend's shin. "A-anyway, Brittany, what are you doing here?"

"I got bored in the studio so I decided to come here. I promised Mr. Duck I'd visit him soon, but I've been so busy I forgot to come back. He's still a bit grumpy but I think this stick of bread helped." She looked up at the stunned pair with a wide smile.

"Mr. Duck?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah!" Brittany exclaimed, turning around and motioning at a rather large duck nibbling on bread. "That's him! He's the leader of the pack."

Santana held back a laugh as a look of confusion washed over Quinn, "Ducks don't travel in packs, though..."

"Huh?"

Santana chose this moment to cut in, "Say, Brittany. Is it okay if Quinn crashes the night? She needs a place to stay and her crappy job won't pay for a hotel room."

Quinn nodded, "If you don't mind."

Just as Santana expected, Brittany jumped up and down in excitement, clapping her hands, "No, that's totally cool! We can watch movies and I'll make dinner-"

"Oh, please don't. You'll end up burning the place down, again."

Either Brittany didn't hear Santana or chose to ignore her, the blonde continued on, "This is going to be awesome, Quinn. We never have guests over! Well I guess we do all the time but I don't think they count since they only come for sex. Unless you want to have sex, which I have no problem with. You're really cute and you have lion hair." Brittany reached towards a few strands, "The Lion Quinn."

Both Santana and Quinn were caught speechless. Mostly Quinn, though; Santana was used to her roommates random outbursts. She usually found them intriguing and cute, but the thought of sex and Quinn made this whole conversation incredibly weird.

"No-no, there will be no sex involved, Britt." Said girl pouted at Santana. "No!"

Brittany huffed and dropped the subject, turning to Quinn once more and smiling brightly, "I should get back to the pack. I saw a few squirrels back there and Mr. Duck has a fear of fur. See you later!"

When her roommate was out of sight, the two friends let out a chuckle. "Well, she's different." Quinn commented.

"Yeah, she is."

"I'd never expect you to room with someone as...ditsy as her." Automatically, Santana sent a sharp glare at her.

"She's not ditsy, she's..." Santana struggled to defend her roommate, "She's Brittany. She's fun and crazy in a good way. Don't just judge her so quickly, you barely know her."

Quinn was caught off guard by her friend. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"And it's not like I had a choice." Santana quickly added, averting her eyes, "She was the only one willing to room with me, and I needed the rent cut in half so I just went along with it."

"And you guys are okay with living together? Like, are there any problems?"

Santana inwardly laughed. Her and Brittany were far from having any problems. The past few days were fucking awesome. When the two of them weren't busy working, out shopping, or fucking other people, they'd share a few minutes together having mindless sex. It was fun and easy. Past worries over awkwardness and weirdness have fled Santana's mind ages ago. Nothing between them was odd.

Taking one last look at Brittany's distant figure, Santana smirked, "Nope, none at all."

* * *

><p>Insisting that the movie was perfect for Quinn and her new do, Brittany finally received Santana's grunt of approval and played <em>The Lion King <em>on for the three of them. Quinn only chuckled at the their bantering and how easily Santana broke under Brittany's insistence and pouts.

It was twelve at night, and after an order of pizza, they settled in front of the television, Brittany and Quinn on opposite ends of the couch while Santana snuggled underneath a blanket at the foot of it.

"I love this part!" Brittany squealed.

"Britt, these are the beginning credits..."

"I love it."

Time passed by and before Santana knew it, Simba had already met Timon and Pumbaa. She wasn't exactly paying attention, just idly surfing the net on her iPod. To her right, Quinn was halfway passed away on the couch. Brittany was still soaked into the movie...at least, that's what Santana thought until she felt a bare leg dragging itself across her left arm. Her brows furrowed and she shifted slightly to get a glimpse of what Brittany was doing.

To her surprise, Brittany's eyes were still on the movie, as if she was completely unaware her leg was now rubbing the side of her boob. Glancing quickly at Quinn, totally knocked out by now, Santana hissed, "What are you doing?"

"Shh," she quickly shushed her, "Best part of the movie." The blonde had been saying that about every scene, though. "I'm cold."

Any form of protest was quickly swallowed by Santana as Brittany moved to the floor, grabbed the blanket and pulled herself under. Quinn let out a grunt at the shift.

"Okay," Santana drawled out. Brittany pressed herself against her side and rested her hand on her thigh. She immediately tensed up at the contact. The hand began to move up, destination clear. "What, what are you doing?" Her voice cracked.

"Watching the movie." Brittany simply replied, unaffected. Santana covered her hand over Brittany's and momentarily paused her actions.

"Quinn is right there."

Finally, Brittany smirked, though her eyes never left the tv, "Yeah, but she's sleeping." Their hands struggled together for a minute, before Brittany finally broke free and quickly moved to cup her sex.

Santana inhaled sharply and buckled, "Ugh, not _now._"

"_Chicken."_ Oh, she had the nerve.

"Am not. I'm just being- shit- reasonab-able!" Through her protesting, Brittany moved closer to her ear and whispered her name in a seductive voice. Santana whimpered.

Quinn was right _there. _Santana knew by experience her friend wasn't a heavy sleeper. She wakes up at the slightest movement. Being caught by Quinn wasn't something she wanted to happen, especially when the person fingering her was her roommate. Trying to explain their relationship would be only serve to make Quinn more grossed out with her lifestyle.

"Stop thinking so much, silly." Brittany said, trailing a finger over tan skin.

If she was honest with herself, Santana _was_ thinking a bit too much. Their bodies were covered by a safe blanket, the movie was playing loudly, covering any extra sounds, and deep down, this whole situation was hot. Plus, it's not like she hasn't been fingered in public before...(junior year, high school assembly, Amanda Couglar, long story short- hottest assembly _ever._)

Santana relaxed and Brittany took this as a sign to continue. Her right hand unbuttoned Santana's jean shorts. Santana lifted herself and allowed Brittany to drag the garment down. Santana suppressed a moan when she felt cold fingers dipping into her thong. She adjusted so Brittany could get a better angle.

The blonde suppressed a gasp at how wet Santana had become in such a short amount of time. Santana flushed in embarrassment but nudged her hips to emphasize her want.

Though the angle wasn't perfect, Brittany managed to run her middle finger across soaking folds, careful to avoid her clit. Santana suddenly buried her head onto Brittany's shoulder and moaned. She could feel Brittany smirking. Her fingers circled her wet core, finally dipping slightly into it.

"_Jesus..."_ Her hips grounded up, "More."

Brittany wasn't cooperative, though. She extracted her hand and traveled Santana's sex. Santana shut her eyes tightly when she felt two fingers begin to playing with her clit. The urge to let out a moan had never been stronger in her life. But Quinn...

When Brittany placed pressure in that area, Santana groaned and bit down on her shoulder, earning a hiss from the blonde. "Stop teasing."

Brittany seemed to contemplate this. For the sake of her shoulder, she finally decided to plunge two fingers deep within the brunette.

"Oh my fucking-"

"Shh..."

Santana only continued to whimper as two fingers pumped in and out of her. "Faster."

Santana was granted her wish for about three seconds before a voice brought them back to reality, "What are you guys _doing?_"

The two women launched themselves on opposite sides of the living room, panting heavily and avoiding eye contact. Quinn was squinting back and forth between them, clearly still somewhat drowsy. Santana struggled to pull her shorts back up underneath the blanket while Brittany stared wide eyed.

"So?" Quinn crossed her arms, giving Santana an accusatory look.

Santana plastered on her best bitch look, "I was just...crying, jeez. It's a sad scene, okay, back off."

Quinn didn't look convinced, "You were having sex."

Santana and Brittany gaped at the blonde. An unknown amount of time passed as Quinn waited for their denials.

"You're good." Brittany muttered.

"Brittany!" Santana yelled. Now there was no way she could deny this shit.

"Please, I've walked in on Santana having sex countless times," Quinn stood up and placed a hand on her hip, "So tell me. Are you guys dating, or something?"

The two roommates exchanged glances. "No. We just live together." Santana said.

"And we have sex. But only recently. It was my idea. It's fun!" Brittany chimed in. Seriously, she wasn't helping. At all.

"So you guys live together...but you have sex. Santana, I thought you only sleep with people you don't know..."

"It's just how it is, okay?" Santana really wanted this conversation to end. A specific part of her needed some attending to. Quickly. "I'm going to bed."

She exited the room, hoping Brittany set up Quinn's bed. Santana had no desire to be near her friend, already knowing a long lecture was on it's way. It always happened, whenever she got caught sleeping with someone, or made some comment about her sex life. Quinn loved Santana like a sister, always looking out for her, so the blonde was never approving of how the brunette chose to live her life. It was apparently _dangerous, unsanitary, disgusting, _blah, fucking blah.

She'll do whatever the fuck she wanted to do, even if it meant occasionally sleeping with the person she lived and hung out with.

* * *

><p>AN: So overwhelmed from all the feedback I got, keep it up guys! Reviews appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N: Remember, it's rated M for a reason..

"Santana, can I talk to you?"

"No."

"That's too bad,." Quinn pulled out a stool and shifted it around so she was fully facing a scowling Santana. The brunette only shoved her spoon further into her cheerios and took a particularly large bite. Quinn grimaced as milk dripped down her friend's chin. It was safe to say Santana wasn't in a good mood.

"If you're going to start preaching me, don't waste your time."

Quinn sighed, "Yeah, I've given up trying. Plus, I have no right to tell you how to live your life."

Santana gazed at her, confused. She's been telling Quinn the same thing over and over again since high school, but the blonde still wouldn't quit lecturing her. What changed?

Sensing her friends bafflement, Quinn smiled, "Breaking up with Sam showed me how much of an insufferable bitch I had been. I had this mentality where I was this perfect girl with this perfect boyfriend and because of that it's okay for me to pass down judgment to those who weren't as 'fortunate' as I was," she explained. "once I left him, I realized there was nothing perfect about me. I needed a good wake up call and I think letting Sam go was the only way out."

Santana merely narrowed her eyes, not knowing whether to trust her usually preachy friend.

"You can do whatever you want with your life. You can sleep with your roommate as much as you want, I do not care. As long as you are happy." Quinn slammed her hand down on the counter.

"Are you on crack?"

She rolled her eyes and pushed the Latina playfully, "I'm being serious!"

"Alright, alright." She adjusted herself properly, "Damn, well. Thanks. First the haircut now this. You've matured lots, Fabgay."

Once again, the blonde rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore her new nickname, "I gotta get going anyway, so. I'll see you around."

"But I just only saw you."

"Work and stuff," Quinn shrugged, "It's their choice how long I stay. But let's keep in touch through skype. And let me know how this whole ordeal with Brittany plays out."

"It's not an _ordeal. _There's nothing too it. Just meaningless sex." Santana defended herself. Quinn only laughed, gathering her belongings.

"Right."

* * *

><p><em>Ring.<em>

The sound of the doorbell registered in her head, but Santana prayed she was imagining it. She was just having the greatest dream of her life (one that involved winning the lotto and working alongside Angelina Jolie). But the unwelcome noise slowly drew her back to reality.

It rang again and this time Santana shoved her head underneath her pillow and mumbled, "Brittany, get the door."

Except, her roommate was even more reluctant, "Mmm, no. You."

"No. Go."

_Ring._

_"_I didn't even know we had a bell." Brittany mumbled, voice dripping in sleep.

"You should go check and make sure." Unfortunately, Brittany's side gave no indication of movement.

"Santana, go." Brittany finally ordered when the fourth bell rang. Really, Santana shouldn't be taking any orders from Brittany, it was totally uncool and a blow to her pride. But whatever. Just this once.

She reluctantly swung her legs over to the floor and sat up. She checked her phone for the time.

_7:47 _

Goddammit, what idiot has the nerve to come banging on her apartment on a Saturday before noon. Santana hastily crossed her room, intending to place some severe damage on the bastard's face once she opened her door.

"_What?" _Her rage deflated a little upon seeing a familiar face. Although, a few seconds later it was replaced by exasperation, "_Now _what the hell do you want?"

Emma Pillsburry stood tall before her in the hallway looking more nervous and frightened than ever before. Her hands fidgeted in front of her pink blouse as she struggled to maintain eye contact with a fuming Santana. "U-um, hello there, Ms. Lopez."

"Hi." Santana resorted to being a bit kind in case the woman had a basket of muffins for her like last time. They were pretty damn good. "What do you want?"

Emma smiled and reached for a single paper in her purse, "I just wanted to inform you of a gathering tonight for the complex hosted by me. It's purpose is to maintain a healthy relationship between the neighbors and discuss future projects."

She handed the sheet to Santana. As expected, the paper was extremely neat, organized and covered in more pink than what her eyes can handle. She huffed and glared at Emma, "You woke me up at eight in the morning to tell me about a stupid meeting that we both know I'm not going to attend?"

Emma squeaked slightly and stepped back, "I-It's not a meeting, more of a party! Yeah, a party! There will be food served and drinks. It's going to be located in my flat."

The frail woman was the landlord of their apartment complex, a crappy one at that. What Santana never understood was how a woman, so hell bent on performing every procedure with the utmost accuracy, so anal about cleanliness and who was such a timid person, could own the crappiest building in town, in the most dangerous area of L.A.

The people, though, who lived in the building weren't as bad as the description. Emma made sure those who occupied were at least presentable, clean and friendly before allowing them to sign a lease. (Santana was none of the above, but she was an amazing liar.)

"Still not going, bye." She made to shut the door on Emma's face, but the woman spoke up quickly.

"It's mandatory!"

Well, shit.

* * *

><p>Brittany inched closer to the invite sheet, nose barely touching the paper. Her eyes were scrunched up, carefully reading each sentence as if she'd miss a word. Santana would have smiled a little if it weren't for the <em>reason <em>why she was reading the stupid invite. After a minute she pulled back.

"It says it's mandatory for everyone who lives in the building to go." Brittany announced.

Santana was leaning against the wall, forcing herself to look nonchalant about the situation. "Yeah, so? It's not like they're going to kick us out."

"You never know, San." Brittany intimidatingly stated. Her eyes went unfocused for a minute, recalling a harsh memory, "They might hunt you down at night in your sleep and probe you when you least expect it."

Santana gave her an odd look before dismissing this assumption, "Please, it's Emma Pillsburry, the most she'd ever do is poke you once with a toothpick."

"I've totally done that before."

"Look, you can go if you want, I'm going to just relax tonight and enjoy a day off. Maybe I'll spend some time going to a club or something." Multiple possibilities ran through her head, all more appealing than a stupid party hosted by her landlord.

"But there's gonna be free food and wine. Free food, Santana. Free."

It was a bit tempting, but..."No. It'll probably just be store bought cheese and stale bread."

"That stuff is good though, especially with fondue. Ask Lord Tubbington, he has awesome taste."

Brittany and her cat's life was a whole other realm of weirdness Santana didn't want to get herself involved with. "I refuse to be in the same room as Miss OCD, let alone her _apartment._"

Brittany stood up and began shaking her head. Warning bells went off in Santana's head and in a blink of an eye she found herself cornered by her blonde roommate. Brittany placed both her hands on either side of Santana's head and leaned into her ear.

"If you go with me, I promise to rock your world when we get back."

The thing with Brittany, and Santana had a hard time distinguishing whether it was good or bad, was how _unpredictable _she was. One moment you're having the weirdest conversation about gay dolphins and the next, you're reduced to jelly with one smoldering, seductive look. Which often (recently) led to the hottest quickies of her life.

Santana gulped, resisting the urge to jump her. "I-I'm not that easy."

Wrong thing to say, apparently. Next thing Santana knew, a firm hand was groping her right boob. "How about now?" Brittany said in a low voice.

"Never."

Left boob grab. "_Please, _Santana?"

"N-no. Oh!"

A knee thrusted straight between her legs. And before either of them could mutter a single word, Brittany began rotating against all three areas.

"Holy shit, f-fine! Fine, I'll fucking go!" Only when Brittany began giggling as she pulled back did Santana realize she probably made the biggest mistake of her life. God knows how far her roommate would have taken it if Santana continued protesting. Why the hell did she give in? Stupid, stupid, stupid...

As if she wasn't just molesting the brunette three seconds ago, Brittany clapped and jumped around the room, reaching for the paper and her purse. "I'm going to go look for a nice outfit to wear, be ready by six!" With that, the blonde skipped out of the apartment.

Tonight better be fucking worth it.

* * *

><p>Santana was lazily flipping through her magazine at the front of the living room when the door busted open. Brittany emerged with the biggest smile ever, holding two shopping bags. "Hey!"<p>

"Mmm."

She heard a gasp behind her, "Santana! You should be in your clothes by now, the party starts in thirty."

"I can get done in ten minutes." Totally not true, but whatever.

"Are you taking a shower?"

Santana shrugged, flipping a page. "I guess, yeah."

"Well, I need to take one, too. We have no time to wait for each other. You take the longest showers; sometimes I wonder if a troll grabbed your leg and pulled you down the drain." Brittany settled her bags on the ground and walked around so she was facing a confused Santana.

"What are you saying?"

"Let's take one together."

Everything in the world came to a sudden halt as Santana's processed what the blonde just said.

Shower. Naked. Together.

_Jesus, this girl is going to be the end of me. _Not that the two haven't seen each other semi-naked before. It's just, they've never been fully unclothed _at the same time. _There hasn't been any full on skin to skin contact since Brittany initiated this benefit thing over a week ago. Truthfully, Santana found being naked together with someone super intimate- and she never did intimacy. That and eye contact. Only during the most extreme cases did she accept full on contact, but other than that. No.

Brittany sensed Santana's inner turmoil, "What's wrong?"

"Uh, no. I don't need a shower, actually." Santana avoided eye contact by slipping back into the world of _Cosmo. _

"But you said-"

"_Brittany,"_ she pleaded, "Go, we're almost late." Brittany found that reason enough and quickly ran to the shower. Santana sighed and slammed her magazine down once Brittany shut the door.

She had some serious issues.

* * *

><p>"So, explain to me why the hell we're here, again?" Santana hissed. The hand on the small of her back pushed her further into the small crowds.<p>

"Where's the food?" Brittany pondered, ignoring her. Santana grasped the hand on her and pushed it away, giving Brittany her best glares. "What?"

Before Santana could voice her displeasure, Emma Pillsburry chose to make an appearance. "Hello, ladies!"

Emma, always fonder of Brittany since she moved in, wisely sparked up a conversation with the blonde. Santana hovered on the side, scowling at everyone who brushed pass her.

Emma's place was ten times larger than hers. Located on the second floor, the apartment resembled something out of an IKEA catalog. It was extremely tidy and well kept. Santana felt like a scum just thinking about comparing it to her own place.

It wasn't fair, she thought with a huff. Bitch gets the best place in the complex while her tenants have to suffer in a one bedroom shithole.

About fifty people were scattered across the large living room, talking amongst each other while sipping what Santana recognized as champagne. She instantly perked up and searched the room for any sign of the expensive alcohol. She spotted a table scattered in fancy glasses, standing next to a dozen wine bottles. With a gleeful smile, she left Brittany with her landlord and crossed the room.

There was a woman occupying the table, just finishing pouring herself a drink. Santana took the spot beside her and reached for a glass. She smiled apologetically when her hand brushed the woman's arm.

She put all her focus in pouring the drink perfectly into the cylinder glass, which was extremely difficult and resulted in Santana spilling some on her feet. "Shit."

"Here, let me help you." Santana turned to the giggling sound beside her. The woman gently took the champagne bottle and glass from her hands and successfully poured a cup for her. "You're suppose to do it at an angle for more bubbles."

"Huh." She took the glass from the girl's hand with a hesitant smile. "Thanks."

"No problem. You know, I don't think I've seen you around this building. I would have recognized a pretty face like yours." The woman smirked. Her hand reached up and collected a few strands of hair, tucking them behind Santana's ear.

Santana felt herself blushing a bit. It's not everyday another woman initiated the moves on her. Well, if you count Brittany, then yeah, that's everyday, but besides Brittany. She doesn't count.

"I would have never guessed you lived here," she continued. "I'm Brenda."

Brenda was fairly good looking, Santana decided with a quick once over. Maybe too much make up, plus that push up bra was just too tacky and annoying. All in all, she wasn't anything different from her usual hookups. This wouldn't hurt.

"Santana." She finally spoke up.

Before either of them could talk further, a body squished it's way between them, tripping them both, advancing towards the alcohol. Caught off guard, Santana shoved the person for rudely interfering. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"

What she didn't expect was Brittany, turning her head with a big smile as if she just noticed her standing there. "Oh, hey Santana!" The tone of her voice was a little more high pitched than necessary. Santana narrowed her eyes.

Brittany glanced at Brenda, smile faltering slightly. The blonde quickly erased any sign of a frown and quickly grabbed her roommates hand. "So sorry to interrupt, but we have something important to do. Bye!"

"Wait, what-" The blonde dragged her through multiple crowds, away from Brenda, never once loosening her grip on Santana. "Brittany, where are you taking me?"

"Uh." She stopped in her tracks, turning to the brunette.

Santana raised a perfectly shaped brow.

Brittany's eyes flickered all across the room, obviously trying to find an excuse to her motives. "Cheese! Let's go eat cheese."

Santana pulled her back when Brittany tried to make a dash, "Britt...are you jealous?" The thought was highly amusing, yet something in Santana stirred. Her stomach felt funny watching Brittany fumble with her words.

"No! I-I don't even know what that word means..." It came out as more of a question than a statement. Santana knew the girl well enough to know she was feigning ignorance.

"Brittany."

"Look, I just thought I'd help you out. I know her because I always pass her in the morning when I'm off to work and she isn't really nice." Brittany said. It would seem convincing enough if the blonde was at least making some eye contact with the suspicious Latina. "Anyway," Brittany tugged on her arm, pulling her across the room, "Let's have some food."

Santana pushed the recent turn of events to the back of her head for later, still completely confident in the fact that Brittany was jealous of her interactions with Brenda.

The thought brought a little more bounce to her steps.

* * *

><p>"Santana, I think we should get back to the party..." Brittany pleaded quietly.<p>

They somehow ended up in the hallway leading to a bunch of bedroom doors. At Santana's insistence, the two exited the main room and went through a door behind the kitchen. Reluctantly, Brittany followed.

"This bitch has so many fucking rooms, what the hell." Santana muttered in disbelief. She twisted a door knob, revealing a bathroom nearly twice as big as Santana's.

"Come on San, I think they're making an announcement now."

"All the more reasons why I'm here and not there." Brittany huffed, "Holy crap this is her bedroom. Do you know how many times that bitch entered my apartment and went into my room without my permission? She thinks she has a right to just waltz in and start cleaning just because she owns the place."

Brittany was too busy pouting to respond. Santana entered the room with a smirk. It was extremely tidy as expected. With just one scan around the room, it made the brunette angry for no particular reason.

"Let's piss her off."

The blonde began to bite her bottom lip nervously, a habit of hers. "Please, San. Emma is too nice, she doesn't deserve this." She watched Santana rearranged some books, toss around some pillows, and kick back a part of the carpet.

Even after all that, the brunette seemed unsatisfied, "This is lame..."

Brittany observed with dread as an idea formed in her roommates head. Santana had the hugest grin on her face, one hundred percent evil. Their eyes locked. Upon seeing the intensity in Santana's eyes, Brittany stepped back, shaking her head.

"What?"

"We should have sex on her bed." Santana watched as Brittany's ears perked up at their favorite word. But at the same time, she visibly shrunk at the implications.

"Not here...when we get home...like I promised." Brittany mumbled.

Santana shook her head and stepped forward, "Look, I know you don't hate her like I do, but think about how hilarious it will be when she goes to sleep tonight not knowing two chicks totally came _all over_ her sheets hours before. I'm thinking about putting a hidden camera somewhere here just to see her reaction when she feels how sticky and wet her bed is."

"San, that's mean." Brittany deadpanned.

She sighed, exasperated. "Fine, whatever. I'll probably just go ask Brenda to help me if you won't."

In a blink of an eye, a pair of lips crashed down onto hers, causing her to fall recklessly against Emma's bed. She grunted against Brittany, approving of the turn of events.

With one hand, the other tangled in blonde locks, Santana pulled back the duvet and scooted up towards the headboard. She flipped positions with Brittany, hovering proudly above her.

Upon seeing Brittany's lust filled eyes, Santana began aching for her immensely.

Their lips crashed together once again, a battle of tongues, teeth, and lips. Moans combined together, along with low grunts and groans; soon, neither could tell which sound was coming from who. It was a battle of dominance as Brittany flipped them over, only to be pushed back down by the eager Latina. Clothes were haphazardly tossed across the room, a race to see who was able to undress the other first.

It became so much more than a silly revenge against Emma Pillsburry.

"Off," Brittany murmured, tugging on Santana's tank top. The brunette was wearing nothing but that and her panties. She won at the undressing game, seeing as Brittany remained completely nude beneath her.

"Not until I'm done with you," she hissed in her ear. She cupped a perfectly round breasts and brought down her lips over a perked nipple, sucking greedily. Brittany gasped at the sensation. Her hips lifted up, needing friction, grinding against Santana's thigh mercilessly. Santana continued her sinful acts on Brittany's other breast.

The noises her roommate was making were probably the sexiest Santana has ever heard in her life. The dampness of her panties were proof enough. Santana rocked her hips into Brittany's, eliciting a whimper from her.

Her lips descended upon abs that should have been illegal. Her tongue explored the blond's navel as Brittany's breathing increased, feeling Santana closing in on the spot she needed her the most. Santana was still busy worshiping those taunt abs, though. She never wanted to part with the blond's stomach, loving every inch of it.

"San..." Brittany whimpered, not able to take more of the teasing.

Understanding Brittany's need, Santana lifted two dancer legs and lowered herself. Inhaling a scent she'd become accustomed to over the week, Santana sighed.

The feel of Santana's breath hitting her core sent Brittany fidgeting with anticipation.

"Please."

And that's all it took for Santana to bury her tongue into her pussy. Brittany screamed on contact, and for a second, Santana was afraid someone would here, but her scream broke down into throaty moans and panting.

She licked across Brittany's slit, exploring with technique, wondering which would make her roommate the wettest.

An idea popped into her head, suddenly.

She lifted her upper body, once more capturing the blond's lips. Before Brittany could react to the loss of contact, Santana flicked her bundle of nerves with a finger.

Brittany was a whimpering mess when Santana muttered in her ear, "I'm going to make you cum so hard."

She smirked when she felt the girl became extra wet on the spot. So she was into dirty talk, huh...

Santana nibbled at her ear lobe, feeling pale arms roam across her back, lifting her tank top over her head.

She let one finger circle a wet core before plunging it inside. Brittany gasped and clung tighter to the Latina.

Slowly fucking the blonde with one finger, Santana whispered huskily in her ear, "No one will ever make you more wetter than this. You're going to be screaming my name when you fucking come all over these sheets." Brittany whimpered and nodded, "You love getting fucked like this, don't you? Fucking slut."

With the last two word, she increased her pumping with two fingers.

Her pace quickened, as did Brittany's panting and heartbeat. "You are not allowed to cum until I tell you so, do you understand?"

"Fuck, shit...ah-god. More!" Brittany moaned.

"I said, do you understand?" She pulled out every finger and waited patiently as Brittany responded to her order.

Brittany opened her eyes, mouth agape, "No, don't stop, please don't stop."

"What did I tell you?" she carelessly toyed with an erect nipple.

"Mmm, I-I won't cum until you tell me to."

Santana smiled smugly, "Good girl." Without warning she plunged three fingers, knuckle deep, into an unsuspecting Brittany.

"Oh, shi-" Santana captured her cry in a searing kiss as Brittany arched up.

"Yeah, take it." She was furiously pounding into the blonde, Brittany meeting each thrust with a cant of her hips. "Fuck these fingers like the slut you are."

The sight beneath her, honestly, was breathtaking. Brittany's face was scrunched up, fighting back an impending orgasm, her chest was heaving, sweat dripping down each breast. Santana gazed at her fingers, disappearing and reappearing between folds, covered in Brittany's sweet juices.

The sight made her come. Hard.

"F-fuck." She gasped out. Brittany, sensing the break in rhythm groaned upon seeing Santana orgasm.

"Please, let me..." She gasped out. Santana knew Brittany had reached her point and was only waiting for her permission to climax.

"Cum for me," With a final thrust and flick, Brittany was sent off the edge, now moaning and screaming her name in pure ecstasy.

"Oh, god!" she collapsed on Emma's bed, gasping for air.

Meanwhile, Santana watched with pride as Brittany's juices leaked onto the sheets, forming the largest puddle of cum she had ever seen.

"That was so fucking hot." Brittany managed to gasp out. Santana joined her by her side, watching with amusement as she struggled to contain her breath and thoughts. Their heartbeats pounded restlessly in their ears.

"Yeah, I know," she said, cockily. "Never knew you were into dirty talk."

"I'm into anything." Brittany closed her eyes in content. Santana stored this small piece of info, then leaned in to poke her roommate in the cheek.

"Don't fall asleep here, silly."

"Too...tired."

A few minutes later, once she forced Brittany out of bed and to dress up, they stood before the now ruined bed.

"I think we did good." Santana clapped her hands.

Brittany smiled sheepishly, "Totally."

* * *

><p>Brittany had a slight limp to her step as they trotted back to the main room. Her hair, even after they attempted to fix it, screamed 'I just had sex'. And there was a lazy smile plastered on her face.<p>

Santana had never felt so proud of herself in her life.

Her mood was quickly squashed as Emma appeared in her vision. People were slowly leaving, by then.

Brittany seemed distracted, though, suddenly, "I'll be right back."

Emma stood before her as soon as Brittany disappeared. "Oh, Santana! I didn't see you during the announcements."

Now there were two ways to go from there. Tell Emma what just occurred in her bedroom and witness the world's greatest conniption or play bluff and let Emma discover the wet stain and sex aroma in her room. Well, the first option would probably land her and Brittany in jail. Plus, she'd have to explain once again their situation and how _they were not dating. _

"Oh, Brittany had to use the bathroom so I escorted her through the doors. But we did manage to see most of the presentation by the kitchen. It was very informative." Santana said in the sweetest voice she could muster.

Emma was caught off guard, "Oh? Oh, well that's great. I hope you enjoyed. Hopefully we will be seeing you two at the events this year!" She exclaimed happily.

Santana could only nod, not knowing what the fuck this bitch was talking about. "Yeah, sure, of course."

Santana bid her farewell and searched the room for her roommate. Brittany was making her way towards the brunette all smiles and a trace of pink across her cheeks. She smirked, knowing well where that came from.

"You ready to get the hell out of this place?"

* * *

><p>Brittany was just about to climb into bed when she appeared beside Santana's desk. The brunette was busy searching for law firms online to notice the blonde take out a small piece of paper.<p>

"This is for you."

"Huh?" Santana glanced down at the white sheet, noticing ten digits written neatly across it. "What is this?"

"Brenda's phone number." Brittany shrugged. "She's really interested in you."

Brittany left Santana by the dim lighted desk gaping. Her entire world just got a whole lot confusing. Why on Earth did Brittany get Brenda's phone number who the Latina was so sure made the blonde jealous? The way Brittany so nonchalantly handed over the paper made is seem as though she wasn't.

Wasn't she?

Her hand gripped the paper tighter, and suddenly Santana wasn't all that happy anymore.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the false update, was just editing chapter three when I clicked 'new chapter' instead of 'replace'. So yeah, hope you enjoyed this chapter. There's going to be one more chapter of smutty humor then we're going to hit drama/angst territory, but not too much angst, cause I know you all want a light, funny story.


	5. Chapter 5

Roommates with Benefits Part 5

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I had no computer for a while, and school just started so... :/

* * *

><p>"Fuck this shit," Even after the third twist, the fucking door still wouldn't open. "Ugh."<p>

Santana shook her head, clearing her foggy mind, forcing herself to calm down and take a deep breath. She opened her eyes and once again attempted to open the door of her apartment, finally matching the correct key to the hole.

She was drunk out of her mind, evident in the way she staggered into the dark room, blindly searching for the switch on the left side. She could practically hear the alcohol swooshing around in the pits of her stomach as she stumbled forward. The feeling made her want to throw up.

But years and years of practice allowed her to keep the bile at bay for now. She didn't want to vomit all over Brittany's sweater and shirt which were lying carelessly at the foot of the couch.

_Huh?_

Her gaze lingered across the floor, meeting the sight of multiple pieces of clothing trailing towards her bedroom door, where conveniently, the trail ended and the door closed.

A magnitude of emotions hit her, the strongest being anger. Anger because today was her fucking day, and if she wasn't kicked out of her favorite club because stupid, racist police men were being stupid and racist, she'd be here with some late night hook-up. Granted, she wasn't, but Santana would have liked to be reassured her bedroom was available and Brittany-free, just in case.

She leaned back against the couch and sighed deeply. A less obvious feeling, one she couldn't exactly pin point in this intoxicated state of hers, lingered deep within her heart. It only intensified slightly when she glanced once again at a discarded bra, next to a pair of boxers. It pinched her heart and caused her to scowl. Her body itched to dive into her bedroom and pull Brittany out of bed. But by doing that, she would be faced with the image of Brittany cuddling with some dude, which probably wasn't good for her stomach at the moment.

She moaned loudly, forcing the stupid thoughts out of her head. She needed to gain control of herself before she did anything dumb, a common occurrence whilst drunk.

Without a care for a blanket or pillow, she slammed her body against the couch and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

><p>It got her every time. The massive headache, the twisting of her stomach, the awful stench in her mouth. Every time it happened, she'd vow never to drink alcohol again. Which of course, was a vow she never stood by.<p>

The sun was slowly rising, and Santana found herself gazing hopelessly at the ceiling, praying this time around, her hangover didn't include gut-wrenching vomit. Typically, luck wasn't on her side and before her body could register it, bile rapidly made it's way up her esophagus.

"Jesus, f-" She sprinted faster than ever to her bathroom, forcing the vomit to stay down, and opened the closed door. If she were paying attention to anything other than making it to the toilet, she would have noticed Brittany brushing her teeth by the sink, surprised by the sudden intrusion.

As Santana emptied the contents from her system, she felt a soft, warm hand pulling her hair aside. The hand rubbed circles on her back as she dry-heaved. It made the entire experience less painful.

"You okay?" Brittany asked, voice laced with worry.

"I'm fine." It came out a bit harsher than she intended, but once she glanced at the blonde and her obvious i-just-had-sex hair, Santana couldn't stop the sudden punch of anger.

"Are you sure? Do you need anything? I can bring you some water."

"No, Brittany. I'm fine."

Brittany reached out to touch her sweaty forehead, "You look really pale, kind of like Charity when she eats too many Hot Cheetos."

By reflex, Santana swapped the hand away, never one for intimate touches, especially when she felt like punching something. She couldn't pinpoint why she was so mad. When she was around Brittany, for some reason, a wide range of emotions encompassed her. From extremely happy to sexually crazy to insanely mad. It was nothing like Santana had ever felt before, and to be quite honest, she was scared.

"Can you just give me some room," she snapped, "Jesus, it's not like the first time I've ever had a hangover around you."

Brittany wasn't phased, "Yeah, and I always helped somehow."

"Well, I don't need your help right now." She stood up on shaky legs. Her head pounded mercilessly, causing her to become dizzy, "Ugh."

Brittany quickly rushed to her aid, gripping her arm. "Santana."

"Stop," Finally, a wounded look passed over Brittany when Santana shoved her away. It took all her strength not to hug her and apologize. "Can you leave? I'm going to take a shower."

She tried to ignore the steady eyes of her roommate. Her roommate, who she'd only known for a few months, who was so goddamn perceptive in emotions and shit, who knew when something was up.

Brittany seemed like she was about to speak again when a deep voice sounded through the apartment, "Brittany? Are you in there?" Brittany's ears perked up and judging from her expression she wasn't expecting the new voice. "I can't find any syrup and I think these waffles are expired."

"Who is that?" Santana demanded, though she had an idea.

"Oh, my hook-up from last night," Brittany was walking towards the door. "Puck. I only remember it because it rhymes with duck. And fuck. Can I name my child that?"

Santana shook her head, "Wait, _what_?"

"Brittany!"

"Feel better, San!"

Santana would have responded with something snarky, but the name Brittany just muttered brought her world to a sudden halt. _Puck. _The voice before did sound familiar...

"Oh, fucking shit, no."

* * *

><p>"Oh, Lopez, this is <em>gold.<em>"

"Why the hell are you still here?"

"Santana, be nice."

"Whatever."

"Whi-_ipped._"

A loud _smack _came from the kitchen. Puck howled in pain. "You're still the world's biggest bitch, you know that- jesus."

"Yeah, and I take pride in that," Santana said with a scowl. The mo-hawked jerk was still seated in her kitchen, eating his fifth waffle in large bites. Santana despised people like him; the ones that stayed till the afternoon and feasted on their food like they owned the place. This time, Santana didn't give a shit if she was being rude, she wanted the bastard out.

She met Noah Puckerman back in her first year at college. He lived down the hall in her dorm building, taking in the life of college like the foolish freshman he was. He slept with every girl in the dorm and eventually found his way into her pants.

It was a time Santana would rather forget ever happened. She was going through a serious post-breakup meltdown. Her fucking roommate, at the time, planted the thought that maybe girls weren't worth the shit, and soon, Santana pursued Puckerman at a party.

It was sloppy, and disgusting, and all the reasons why Santana would never consider sleeping with a man again. She hadn't had sex with a guy for two years until then. Ever since, Santana couldn't forgive the bastard (despite the whole ordeal being _her fault,_ rather than his, but she preferred blaming others). She grew a deep hatred for the boy, his existence being that bump in her sexuality she'd love to erase.

It didn't help the douche bag kept rubbing it in her face.

He was giving her all kinds of looks over the _Eggo _box. Obnoxious smugness being one of them. "So Lopez, how's life? I'd ask if you're still confused about your sexuality, but," he wiggled his eyes at the bedroom door where Brittany was rummaging through the drawers, "kind of hard to stay straight when you got that fine piece of ass prancing around you."

She unconsciously clenched her fist.

"Giving the fact that I fucked her _crazy _last night, I'm assuming you two aren't, you know, together." She gave him her best death glare as he continued, "Shame, really. She's an amazing lay. Best I've ever had in a while."

A familiar warmth suddenly overcame her- the need to humiliate this guy until he's sputtering like the incompetent loser he is. "We may not be together, Puckerman, but I still get more pussy than you on a daily basis."

His shit eating grin disappeared in an instant, his eyes narrowed, "Baby, that may be true, but I'm all about quality, not quantity."

She nodded, "With Brittany, I guess it's quality and quantity, all in one package. Kind of awesome, isn't it?"

He scoffed, "What the hell are you saying?"

Before she could respond, Brittany popped her head into the room, "San, I found your underwear between my bed and the wall. It's probably from two nights ago...or yesterday morning...I don't know, I lost track, I'll put it in your basket!"

Santana lifted her hand without turning her head in a 'what-did-I-tell-you' way.

Puck gaped in utter confusion and disbelief, "No way. No fucking way."

"Mmm-hmm, that's right," she couldn't stop herself. She somehow wanted to show Puck that Brittany was...hers, in a way. That he couldn't come into their house, fuck her roommate, and say all this shit as if Brittany would ever give a second thought about him. Santana knew by experience the dude was a lousy sex partner (maybe cause she was a lesbian, but fuck logic). "So whatever shit you two did last night, consider it an average Monday. I would with that size." She muttered under her breath.

His face was growing considerably red, "Bitch, I rocked her world last night after that amazing lap dance, which I vaguely remember her saying was the first she ever gave since college."

Santana faltered, mind fumbling to come up with coherent thoughts other than 'lap dance'. "She gave you a lap dance?"

He smirked, finally, gaining back the smugness she detested. "I honestly feel sorry for you."

She glared at him, choosing this moment to dump her dishes in the sink.

A fucking _lap dance. _

_Jesus Christ, why haven't I thought of that before? I live with a fucking dancer who happens to be an equally talented sex goddess. And this douche bag got first dibs on it? Hell no._

"Jealous?" She turned to the sight of Puckerman leaning back on the island, one leg crossed over the other. His expression made her want to punch him hard.

"Go fuck yourself." Great, now here comes her stupid comebacks, fueled by rage and jealousy. "Seriously, why the fuck are you still here? God, I can feel an STD growing on me just by looking at you."

His face turned serious, "Not funny, Santana. That shit is actually dangerous and life-threatening."

"Ew, gross, get the fuck out of here!" She yelled as he laughed to the door, "If you infected my roommate, I will come after your fucking balls and rip them out!" She slammed the door in a huff, breathing heavily.

Brittany wandered into the room a few minutes later, all smiles and rainbows and shit, only serving to make Santana angrier when she realized her previous anger vanished at the refreshing sight. Naturally.

* * *

><p>"Stupid. Fucking. Mo-hawked. Freak." She threw the core of the romaine lettuce in the trash can and grabbed another, ripping the leaves off with as much ferocity as the previous five. She could feel Lauren side-eyeing her, but Santana didn't give a flying fuck.<p>

Seriously, of all the people Brittany decided to sleep with in this big ass city, she chose Puck? It frustrated her beyond belief.

When she graduated college, she looked forward to never seeing Puck again, as well as the other fifty fake bitches who tried to befriend for her class notes.

Apparently, the world just loved screwing her over.

Oh, and the fact that Brittany gave _him _of all people a lap dance? So not cool. Receiving a lap dance from a hot chick (that wasn't a stripper) was, like, her birthday wish at thirteen.

"Are you always this mad?" Lauren asked bluntly beside her. Her eyes were studying Santana in mild interest. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile."

Santana made sure the bitch stayed an extra three hours.

* * *

><p>When she arrived home that afternoon, Brittany was sitting on the couch, attempting to apply nail polish on her toes. The sight brought a light smile on her face. Brittany choice of polish consisted of a baby blue color and a lot of sparkles.<p>

"Hey."

Brittany gazed up and beamed, "Hey, San!"

She settled her bag on the counter and crossed the room. "Need a little help there?" Brittany had done a fine job applying to both her feet and left hand, but the nail polish on her right hand looked rough. She gently grabbed the bottle and brush from Brittany and resumed the blonde's work.

"Thanks."

They fell into a comfortable silence as Santana removed the blue with acetone.

"Uh, Britt?"

"Mmm?" She glanced up and saw Brittany's gentle eyes watching her with adoration. Santana felt her heart beat faster.

"I'm sorry about this morning. I was being a bitch when I had no right to. Especially since you were helping me." Santana never really apologized, like ever. And Brittany knew that. She hoped her roommate understood how sincere she was being.

Forgetting for a split second her nails were all wet, Brittany leaned over and squeezed Santana in a hug. "It's okay. We all deserve to get a little mad sometimes."

Santana scoffed, pulling away, "Except, I'm mad _all the time. _It's not really fair for someone as," God, this was going to be so cheesy, "someone as _sweet _and nice as you are to have to deal with me constantly."

Brittany shrugged, "I like you." Santana's heart fluttered, "Even if you don't realize it, you're awesome and smart, and kind and pretty. I love dealing with you." She poked the Latina on the nose, "That's why I'm your roommate."

Santana blushed and gazed down, "Trust me, I'm not as awesome and smart," _or pretty_, "as you are."

An odd look fell over Brittany as she took in Santana's words. "You really think I'm...smart?"

She shrugged, "Well, yeah. You're probably smarter than half the kids I went to college with." This sentimental crap isn't as bad as she thought. Not when Brittany was smiling that brightly. "Living with you has taught me so much. To be more, free and...honest. Me sitting here with you? Never would have happened in a million years if I hadn't met you."

Once again, Brittany crushed her in a tight hug. "Thank you so much." She murmured.

See, this was the part where Santana's plan would have gone into full motion. The part where she should have muttered slyly, _do I get a lap dance now?_

The whole plan was to apologize and make Brittany feel good about herself. Then, Santana, being the sneaky bitch she was born to be, would bring up the topic of a lap dance. Brittany, having warmed up to the brunette, would have found Santana deserving of one. Sooner or later, the brunette would have a hot, dancing blonde grinding up all over her...

She just _really _wanted one, okay?

But the plan kind of crashed and burned the moment she entered the door, to be honest. The thought of manipulating Brittany, who was just so moved by the idea of someone finding her intelligent (Santana honestly meant it), who thought, _she, _Santana, queen of being a rude, selfish, bitch, was somehow awesome and kind...

She couldn't do it.

Wrapping her arms around Brittany, she sighed contently.

Fuck the lap dance, Puckerman. Hugs are a thousand times better, anyway.

* * *

><p>Hours later, evening arrived and the two girls were sitting on opposite sides of the apartment. Brittany was trying out a dish she discovered on the cooking channel, despite Santana's warning. She reassured the brunette that no fire was necessary. Still a bit wary, Santana decided to catch up on episodes of Game of Thrones on her laptop, completely neglecting her job applications.<p>

It was around six when Brittany called her, "The salad's on the island! I have to go to Tina's for a while, make sure you warm the rolls and eat it with the oily sauce stuff!" Tina was Brittany's best friend and co-worker at the dance studio.

"Okay." Santana shut her lap laptop and walked to the kitchen. The salad sitting on the counter looked really delicious, surprisingly.

Brittany smiled and without any warning, pecked Santana on the cheek.

The kiss was super quick and light, yet it took all her strength not to trip and fall on the spot. Her eyes widened, face blushed, though, and she chanced a look a Brittany who was already dashing for the door.

Heart pounding in her ear, Santana muttered "Christ," into the suddenly cold apartment, as though Brittany's exit took away all the sunshine and warmth.

The kiss wasn't exactly unwelcome, but it felt very...domestic. Santana couldn't even remember the last time someone showed that kind of affection towards her. Then again, Brittany was constantly bringing forth new things that were foreign to her pathetic life.

After eating the delicious salad and rolls, after finishing all episodes of the HBO drama, and after painting a single nail in baby blue, sparkly nail polish (just because she can), Santana retired to bed.

The time red 2 a.m., far too late for someone who was just going to visit their best friend across the road.

Santana's lips twitched as she pondered whether or not to call Brittany to make sure the blonde didn't get lost or switch plans. But a more logical part of her reasoned that her roommate probably just crashed the night at Tina's. Or went out partying. It's not like it was the first time Brittany decided to stay out past three.

Either way, it wasn't her business, and she wasn't going to become the needy, controlling roommate who demanded to know Brittany's whereabouts.

For the billionth time that month, Santana closed her eyes, pushing back all thoughts of the blue-eyed blonde, and let sleep wash over her.

* * *

><p>AN: I said more smut, but I am in no mood to spend time writing it. I just really wanted to get this out tonight, so I hope everyone liked it.

Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A/N: WOW over 100 reviews! This my first time ever out of the hundreds of fanfics I've written over the years. Thank you thank you thank you! I know a lot of you are anticipating them confronting their feelings and stuff, but just bear with me! I don't want to rush anything. Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's different than the rest.

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><p>It was Wednesday evening, and Brittany still wasn't home.<p>

Which, okay, shouldn't be a big deal- the blonde was probably in dance class, of course. But Brittany didn't come home last night, and the assumption she slept at Tina's is highly unusual, because that's never happened before, considering Tina was married and expecting.

Whatever.

Santana exited her apartment for her afternoon shift and entered the nearest elevator. She automatically reached for the first level button, completely missing the sight of a paler hand reaching for the same one.

"Our hands just really love bumping into one another." A voice stated amusingly. Santana gazed beside her to see Brenda- from Emma Pillsbury's party- watching her.

_Or you just keep getting in my way. _

"Hi." Santana gave Brenda the politest smile her crappy mood could produce. She was in no mood for conversations.

Obviously, the woman wasn't picking up on her signals, for she continued talking, "Unless you work at Clown City, I don't really think wearing two different shoes is the right way to go."

"Huh?" Santana looked down at her feet in confusion. "Oh, _shit_."

"Busy morning?" The woman laughed as the Latina continued to glower at her mismatched footwear.

"Barely," she muttered, "My mind was just all over the place cause of-" she stopped herself just in time, "work and shit."

"Understandable. Here," the elevator opened up to the ground floor. Brenda stepped out and proceeded to tap the fifth level button, "I'll hold the taxi while you go quickly change."

"But I take the bus..."

"Come on, you'll miss it by the time you come back. My cab driver will take you to work, don't worry about it." She waved her hand in dismissal as the doors started closing.

Santana was at loss for words due to the kind gesture. "Thanks!" She called out before going back up.

As she scrambled to find the right pair of shoe, her mind wandered back to the small parchment she received from Brittany not too long ago; the one with Brenda's number.

With a quick glance at her bedroom door, she shoved her hands in her coat and walked out.

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><p>When she arrived home that evening, there was still no Brittany. Not even evidence the blonde made an appearance in the apartment during the day.<p>

She dropped her bag and sighed. The calendar stated Brittany had the apartment that night, meaning Santana wasn't even suppose to be there, at least not until midnight. But Brittany hadn't text or called beforehand to inform her on what she was doing, which were the rules. Santana assumed the blonde was just relaxing at home.

There was something entirely suspicious about the situation. The more the brunette thought on it, the more she became worried. And _that_ was a foreign concept to her, especially when it came to people. Last time she ever worried about someone, years ago, the girl dumped her for being too clingy.

(Which didn't even make sense- _of course _she was going to worry if her fucking_ girlfriend _got slapped in the face by her father after coming out. Bitch was crazy.)

Reasons like those were why she didn't do the whole dating thing. You think you're doing something right, like protecting the person you 'love' or being there for them during hard times, but really, you're just wasting your time.

Sex. Sex was good. Just sex and nothing else. No strings attached, nothing.

And that came full circle back to Brittany. Because goddammit, there were too many feelings attached to this blonde, unpredictable, gorgeous woman. Santana wasn't suppose to worry where she was. Or care who she slept with. Or wonder what she was doing at every moment.

That last part- yeah, it happened. A lot.

Santana soon decided, after a cup of ramen, she was just going to wait it out.

Brittany would be home soon, and Santana could finally sleep peacefully (post-coital, preferably) and rid all the stupid thoughts out of her head.

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><p>She searched her phone book for Brittany's name, tapping the screen once it appeared. Her eyes impatiently flickered across her window, head ignoring the overflowing dread and fear coursing her body.<p>

It was afternoon the next day and Brittany _still wasn't home. _

There was no question of whether she should call or not by then. Her pride could fuck itself for the time being. Brittany hadn't come home in almost two days. All the excuses her brain were firing up for the blonde's absence weren't justifying shit.

Even if Santana was, in the end, just freaking out for no reason, it would be okay. _Hopefully_, she was freaking out for no reason.

Straight to voicemail.

"Ugh, _shit._" Where the hell are you, Brittany?

Last time she saw Brittany, the girl left the house with nothing but her wallet and phone. It wouldn't make sense if she spent the night at someone else's, considering she wasn't reinforced with extra clothing (specifically her dance clothes), her tooth brush, etc.

Images of hospitals, doctors, bed sheets, sprung into her mind. She closed her eyes and willed the thoughts away. The last thing she wanted was for herself to jump to conclusions.

She needed to sort this out quickly. To make sure her roommate- someone who so graciously wedged her way into Santana's heart without warning- was okay.

She took a deep, steady breath and began her plan of action.

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><p>Santana's only ever been to Brittany's dance studio twice.<p>

This first time, she had only known the blonde for a few weeks. Brittany needed to get dropped off at work when she missed the local bus. Santana begrudgingly had to get out of bed early, finding it difficult to say no to her roommate. She never went inside.

The second time, Brittany forgot her lunch and called Santana to drop it off. She went inside the building and met a couple of Brittany's co-workers. Tina, one of the blonde's closest friends, was rather nice. The young woman recently received news she was pregnant with her newly wed, Mike. Mike was Brittany's other friend, the owner of the studio. She caught a glimpse of the well-toned man dancing on the mats that time. It was kind of hypnotizing, and Santana only wondered how much more she'd be struck dumb if it were Brittany dancing- something she'd never witnessed properly.

She entered the studio with a frown. Scanning the room quickly, she made a note of the lack of Brittany. Her worry grew ten folds.

She spotted the dark haired Asian by a counter and made her way over. Tina was speaking quietly into the receiver and jumped at the sight of Santana. Her eyes flickered to Mike, busy teaching four pre-teens, and back on Santana.

"You're Brittany's roommate, aren't you?"

Santana nodded, getting straight to the point, "Yeah, do you have any idea where she is?"

Concern washed over Tina's perfect skin, "She hasn't come to work. I've been trying to contact her since yesterday. I was hoping she lost her phone again or broke it, but that didn't excuse her absence." Tina shrugged, her face grim, "She hasn't been home..."?

Santana's heart beat quickened. She felt sicker than ever. Her hand reached for the counter as she leveled eye contact with Tina, "No. She left the house two nights ago for _you. _She said you needed her."

"Yeah," Tina nodded, "And she arrived. We went out for some fresh air after a few hours and somehow ended up by her favorite club. Considering I'm pregnant, I left a few minutes later when it was clear she was going to spend the night with a hook-up."

"And what? You don't hear from her for two days and you don't do anything?" The same could be said for her, but, these people knew Brittany better. At least, she thought they did.

"Well, it's Brittany." Tina explained. Santana wanted to punch her. "She's done weirder things. I'm sure she'll be back later today, wherever she went."

"She isn't answering her phone!" Santana stressed.

"Like I said, it's Brittany," Tina moved around the counter, "She probably accidentally turned it off. Most likely you're overreacting."

Santana clenched her fists. How can this bitch be so fucking calm? How can she stand there and claim to be Brittany's friend when it was obvious she didn't give a fuck about her missing. The only thing she seemed slightly worried about was her absence at the job.

"Look, just tell me the name of this club and I'll go sort this out myself since you don't give a flying fuck."

Tina gave her an offending look, "I'm sorry, who do you think you are?"

"Her fucking roommate who-"

"_Exactly,_" Tina stated sharply, "You're just her roommate. You don't know her like Mike and I. When I say Brittany probably has some phone problems, she probably has some phone problems. This isn't the first time she's disappeared. One time she left our city for a week and came back ten thousand dollars richer- don't ask how, she just did. You need to stop freaking out on me when you don't know enough."

Santana stayed silent, jaws clenched. The reality of her words hit home and the brunette found she had a lump in her throat.

_Just her roommate._

Oh, how she wanted to storm out of that building, swearing to never give a fuck about anything again, to leave all these emotions, the entire situation, behind her. Her head screamed for her to leave and never look back again, because, _yes_, she was only a roommate, an accomplice, a fuck buddy- none of this should be her problem. She shouldn't care, _worry_, so much about someone who had friend's who've known her for years.

But it was her heart that demanded she take a stand. Because, _yes_, she was the roommate. She was the roommate who spent almost every night with her, who shared the same kitchen, bathroom, couch, who knew what color towel Brittany preferred, who understood that the blonde liked the bar of soap on the right side cause she brushed her teeth with her left hand. She knew things friends, best friends, _siblings, _of Brittany would never know about the dancer.

It was because of that very reason she knew something was wrong. Her heart was telling her Brittany wasn't safe. That Tina was a load of bullshit who needed to get her head straight.

"Which club?" She asked simply.

Tina raised her head, brows furrowed, "Are you serious?"

"Which club?" Santana kept her voice calm and even, never planning to back down.

Tina rolled her eyes, "The one by Westhill."

Santana sneered, momentarily forgetting her firm stance, "You mean Mayan? That's the place where all the rich douche-bags go."

"She seems to love it. Something about the people always having big television screens in their homes for her to watch Arthur in the morning." It was so typical of Brittany, Santana bit back a smile.

She made to exit before a thought crossed her, "What about the guy? Do you think you remember his name?"

"I think it was Jesse." Santana nodded and headed for the door. Tina yelled at her at the last second, "Wait, Santana." She ran up to the brunette with a large bag, waving at Mike behind her, "I'm coming with you."

She rolled her eyes, "I thought Brittany just _lost her phone_," she mocked.

The Latina could tell Tina was struggling to come up with an argument or excuse. Deep down, the smaller woman knew something wasn't right, but was too hard headed to admit being wrong.

Santana scoffed, not in the mood to argue any longer, "Fine. Whatever, follow me."

Twenty minutes later, the two stood before a noisy club, dark windows seperating them from the bright lights and music. Tina glanced wearily at Santana, "What's your plan?"

"Ask the bartender. He always knows shit." She opened the door for the pregnant woman and maneuvered herself so she was behind Tina, carefully searching the area as they pushed themselves across the room.

"I left her right here," Tina pointed to a high table now occupied by a sophisticated couple. Santana glared at them as though they were the reason for her roommates disappearance.

Finally reaching the bar, she indicated for the bartender who walked over with mild curiosity. "How may I help you?"

Santana looked over at Tina, "Uhm, we're actually looking for someone."

He placed his towel on the counter and sighed, clearly irritated, "Shoot."

"Her name is Brittany Pierce. Uh, she was here two nights ago; long blonde hair, tall, blue eyes..." Tina said.

He shook his head, "I don't recall. What was she wearing?"

Tina slumped, obviously not remembering. Santana rolled her eyes and spoke up, "Booty jean shorts. A yellow, loose blue blouse." Tina gave her an odd look which she ignored.

"Sorry, ma'am."

Santana let out a frustrated groan. "Seriously..."

"How about a guy named Jesse?" Tina decided to be useful for once, "Medium height, curly brown-hair, kind of obnoxious. He was with her that night."

A flash of recognition passed the guy's eyes, "You mean Jesse St. James?"

"Sure."

"He comes here a lot. You can check upstairs in one of the booths. That's where he usually sits." The bartender excused himself quickly as a group of men pushed their way to the bar, laughing. Santana grimaced as one tried to grab her by the waist.

"Fuck off," she spat. Santana shoved on Tina's back, getting away from the rowdy men. "Let's go up."

Their eyes focused on the second-floor once they began climbing the stairs. Santana looked on in doom, not liking the atmosphere of the area up there. Her heart was screaming at her that whatever she'd find wouldn't be good. And as usual, her instincts were right.

They circled around the perimeter until Tina halted in her steps, eyes looking forward. Santana followed her direction and gasped.

Sitting there, without a care in the world, was Brittany, draped across a man. She seemed to be smiling crookedly, eyes half-lidded. The man she had her head on looked far too smug for his own good. They were accompanied by two other pairs Santana didn't care to identify.

"What the hell..." Tina muttered in disbelief, "I got this."

Santana reluctantly watched Tina march up to the round table. She really wanted to follow her, but something about the image did _not _look right. Brittany's demeanor was abnormal, her posture lacked the strong vibe the dancer normally gave off. Her face had a withdrawn expression, almost as if she wasn't really there.

Her eyes narrowed.

Tina bent over and tried to catch the the blonde's attention. The man next to her finally took notice of the pregnant woman's appearance. Santana saw him throw some words at the girl. An arm tightened possessively around Brittany.

She stumbled forward at the motion.

"Brittany, come on." She heard Tina hiss.

"Hey, why don't you just back off," The man, Jesse, she guessed, snapped. He scooted their bodies further away from them.

"What the hell is going on here?" Everyone turned their heads to Santana who only had eyes for Brittany.

It was clear as day the girl was high.

The two couples on the other side of the table made a hasty exit. Jesse remained seated, glaring at Santana. "Can I help?"

She gently pushed Tina aside, "What the _hell_ did you do to her?" She placed a hand over Brittany's only to snap it back when the blonde immediately gazed up at her with foggy eyes.

"Oh, hey, _Saaaan,_" Brittany drawled out, lolling her head between Jesse's shoulder. A couple of giggles passed her dopey smile.

Jesse grabbed her hand and guided them out of the booth. Santana stepped aside, wanting nothing more than to tear the guy's balls off, grab Brittany, and make a mad dash out of there.

"What? You've never seen someone smashed?" He had this sophisticated edge to him that she immediately despised. And he needed to get his fucking hands off of her, and fast.

"I'm not a fucking idiot," she stepped closer, "I think I know the difference between someone who's drunk and someone who's fucking stoned out of their mind."

"Dude," he raised his hands, "chill. She wanted it herself."

"Call me dude again and I will ends you_,_" she heard Tina mutter a warning behind her. Santana paid no mind to her. "She hasn't been home for days now and I'm going to take a wild guess and say it's because of you."

His arms loosened around Brittany's body, eyes becoming anxious.

"Now, you have two choices. Let her go so I can beat you to a pulp or you can sit here and explain to me exactly what you were doing with my roommate these past two days, and _then_, I'll beat you up. Your choice."

Tina grasped her elbow and pulled her back, "Seriously, Santana, calm down. You're freaking out too much."

Before Santana could order her to shut up, Jesse spoke, "I don't think you realize who I am. My father is one of the richest C.E.O's in L.A. There's honestly nothing you can do to me that won't result in your immediate arrest."

"Oh, congratulations, you're more of a pussy than you look. What? Don't think you can take on a girl?" she snarled. But her fists clenched and unclenched, realizing that this man was probably right. His entire appearance screamed big shot. If she laid a finger on him, the club would call security in a blink of an eye.

Just then, Brittany pushed herself off of Jesse and turned. She threw her arms over Santana and slumped against her front, sighing contently. Santana yelped before shivering as the blonde nuzzled her neck.

Jesse raised his brows, "I'll take my leave now."

"Oh, like hell you will-"

"Look, sir," Tina butted in, moving in front Santana who was torn between dealing with Jesse and a suddenly cuddly Brittany, "You need to understand that we're just really worried about Brittany," Tina glanced at the blonde before continuing, "Just, what did you do to her?"

Santana scoffed. The chick was a fucking idiot if she believed the guy would admit any wrongdoings. She was so close to just going with the original plan: fucking him up until every bone in his body became dust.

To her irritation, he shrugged, "You can't really make me say anything. I'm sure when she wakes up she'll disclose all the... _fun _we had. Goodbye, ladies."

Santana pushed Brittany to Tina when she saw the curly, brown-haired man make a hasty exit. "Get the fuck back here!"

"Santana!"

She was a few inches away from grabbing his leather jacket when two large men, popping out of nowhere, grabbed both sides of her elbows and shoved her back, "Let go of me. Get off-"

Security only muttered a brief "stay away" and stalked off, following Jesse down the stairs.

"Santana, stay back. Come on, Brittany needs help." Santana turned to Tina's desperate voice. The only thing supporting the blonde's tall frame were Tina's small hands. Brittany seemed to have passed out.

Santana rushed over and grabbed her roommate, "Jesus, this isn't fucking good. I should have fucked him up and turned him in." Her eyes traced worriedly over pale skin, searching for any signs of harm. There was none.

"At least we know who he is," Tina whispered, "If he did anything wrong, we can accuse him."

"_If?_" Santana shrieked. "She's fucking _passed out _cause of some drug he gave her and who knows what else. We're going to the hospital _right now._"

"What if it turns out Brittany took the drugs willingly? Then she'd be arrested for drug possession or something."

"Is that all you care about?" Santana didn't want to voice it, but she had to make her point across, "What if he...assaulted her?"

"I seriously doubt that, Santana. Didn't you see those people-"

"Fuck you." She was done dealing with Tina's ignorance.

"Santana, wait." She paused the brunette's motions, "Take Brittany to your apartment, tend to her, and when she sobers up, talk. It's better once you get the full story from her. Come on."

The plan was fucking stupid, because anything can happen in twelve hours. But it was also reasonable. The hospital was ten miles away, while her apartment was just around the corner. Traffic was horrible in L.A., and getting a taxi was fucking hard, so that was out of the question.

She begrudgingly shifted Brittany, "Grab her other arm. Ignore anybody who tries to make eye contact. You can never trust these bigots."

As Tina adjusted herself under Brittany's right arm, Santana prayed everything was going to be okay. It was the first time she prayed since childhood.

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><p>AN: Next chapter will be fluffy. Sorry if this came out horribly or ruined the pace. It'll be worth it in the end, I hope.

You guys don't know how much your reviews make my day. I had a hard time deciding if I wanted to study and get good grades or write and get amazing reviews. Ultimately, it had to be the grades cause, its school. And apparently school is important, or whatever.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter was hard to write only because there were certain spots that were difficult to figure out and write. It caused a bit of a writer's block so it took me a while. Sorry, but thank you for all the feedback. Hopefully I haven't frustrated you guys with my slow updates.**

**warning (sorry I didn't place this last chapter): talks of drug MISTAKES ARE MY FAULT ENTIRELY cause i haven't proof read this but im like so fucking tired and spent and i wanna get my sleep on and also post this up so here. ill edit it tomorrow after school**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter Seven<p>

Tina left her alone with Brittany a few hours after they rested the passed out blonde on her bed. Mike's insistent calls finally got the pregnant woman up, muttering something about a controlling husband. Santana had no energy to comment on that.

It was past midnight and Santana remained by Brittany's bedside, placing and removing a wet cloth across her forehead. They undressed her, noting her seemingly unscathed body, and attempted to arose her. Brittany only whimpered and muttered incoherent words.

For the time being, Santana was calm. She had taken a moment to herself, absorbing the fact her roommate was fine for the time being. Her eyes were beginning to droop after 3 A.M., so she made herself a cup of coffee, refusing to go to sleep in case her roommate woke up. She would hate it if Brittany woke up to no one beside her.

So Santana watched on, helplessly, as Brittany slept, occasionally moaning or shifting. Her heart crumbled, though, when Brittany made no sign of waking up.

But as Santana studied her face longer and longer, she became more transfixed by it. Honestly, Brittany was beautiful as she slept. Her long eyelashes rested perfectly against her high cheek-bones. Her hair danced across the pillow, long and silky. The brunette had a sudden urge to run her fingers through it, but that would be plain weird.

Technically, staring at your sleeping roommate for more than two hours was weird all on its own, but whatever. It's been a long, stressful few days; she, like, totally had rights to be creepy and stalker-ish. For now.

Unfortunately (or, fortunately, how ever way you look at it), the coffee didn't do much work, and Santana found herself dozing off. She rested her head against the desk and closed her eyes.

An unknown amount of time passed and Santana found herself awakening to moaning. She jumped out of her seat and dashed to Brittany, twisting and gripping her head in pain.

"Hey, hey..." She reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, "Brittany."

The blonde groaned into her pillow, eyes still shut, "Hurts..."

"I know, I know, just drink this." Her heart clenched at the sight, "I'm here for you..."

"Am I on a submarine...?" Brittany's eyes zoomed in and out of focus, trained on the brunette. Her voice was incredibly scratchy and hoarse.

"We're in our room." Santana muttered, "Have some water."

She grabbed the back of her head and gently lifted it up, pressing the rim to her dry lips. Brittany clenched her eyes as the water passed through her throat. Once she was satisfied she could speak clearly, Brittany asked, "What happened?"

Santana's lips formed a thin line. She didn't know how to explain, cause, honestly, she wanted to know just as much. "...You were drugged."

Brittany sat up quickly, then crashed back down in pain, "Ow..."

"Careful..."

"Drugged?"

She nodded and began explaining her side of the story. Brittany remained quiet the entire time. "I mean I'm assuming you were drugged unwillingly or whatever cause I never took you for that kind of girl."

"I'm into anything," she shrugged. Santana felt stupider by the second. And extremely confused. Like she was missing something.

"Can you- can you just start from the beginning? Cause I have no idea what's going on..."

"Well," Brittany began, brows furrowed in concentration. Her eyes were calm, though, easing Santana's own tension. Perhaps she was more aware of the circumstances and understood nothing horrible happened to her. "I remember when I left the apartment that night I went to Tina's, but I felt like dancing so we went to a club. Jesse came up to me and asked if I could dance with him. He really liked my dancing, cause, like, he offered me a job for his play in West-"

"Wait, back up." Santana held up a finger to end Brittany's rambling. "He offered you a job...?"

"Wait, shh. I'm getting there." Brittany sat up straighter. The girl was highly energetic for someone who was knocked out for the past few hours. "So we went to his flat that night and we had sex for a long-"

"You had sex." Santana deadpanned.

"Yeah! He was rough, like a lot. It was fun, but...scary, a little. But it was cool." She cleared her throat and looked up expectantly at Santana. The brunette had a blank expression. "You okay?"

_No. _No. She was not okay. "Continue, please." She said, instead.

Brittany gazed at her hesitantly, but continued nevertheless, "In the morning he took me to his work place where he asked if I can look over his choreography. He's directing a play for like Broadway or something, it's so cool. Anyway, I taught the dancers like the entire day, which was really tiring. At the end, he offered me to be the choreographer for the play, but I refused."

"Why? Isn't he a big shot?"

"Yeah, well, I love my job so much." Brittany shrugged, "I love working with children. I love teaching without people giving me dirty looks cause I'm so much better than them."

Santana pursed her lips, blinking back an onslaught of tears she felt coming.

"You okay?" Brittany leaned forward.

"Fine! I'm just..." She forced a smile, "What happened next?"

"Uh..." She blinked, looking lost for a minute, "I remember he got angry I declined his offer. Then, we had sex again."

This was unbelievable. "Again!" She scoffed. Santana watched Brittany shrug and then carefully asked, "He didn't force himself on you or anything did he?"

"No!" Brittany almost yelled with a tinge of amusement, "No, he wasn't like that. But Santana, I understand your worries, anything could have happened and..." She gazed nervously at Brittany's troubled face, "I was stupid to accept the MDMA."

Santana blanched. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and she was sure the tears collecting in her eyes were soon to burst. She didn't even bother to wonder _why _she was about to cry. "H-how?"

The question wasn't vague or direct, but Brittany understood her implications. "At first I didn't know it was a drug...it looked like Smarties. But his friend told me and then I got curious. Everyone around me was acting all funny once they took it. I had this weird urge to break loose and...I don't know, _let go._ Just fell nothing, you know?"

Santana's eyes furrowed. It didn't make sense at all. How can sweet, carefree, open-minded Brittany would ever have such a desire. What exactly drove her to take the drug? She was about to ask but bit her tongue.

It was too personal.

"I can't remember exactly what happened after...I," her eyes squinted, "I think we went to the club afterwards to dance. We were there for hours, I think. I'm sorry, everything is a bit hazy."

Once Britt finished her story (though it ended in an unpleasant, open note, that Santana would rather know every detail of) the tears were running down her face, finally.

"What's wrong?" Brittany cried out and made to comfort Santana. Her face contorted into a grimace just as quickly. "Ow."

Santana scooted closer for the blonde taking her hand, albeit shakily. "I'm just so _happy _you're okay. I- I wouldn't know what I've done if something happened to you. All the scenarios that were running through my head...just promise me you won't make me go through that again?"

Brittany shook her head, concern all over her. Santana hated being the reason for that but she really needed to get her point across, "Of course not, sweetie."

"I know we're not like super close, but you mean so much to me. You're my roommate...my friend."

They'd never, _never _referenced each other that before. Not out loud, nor in her head. Her heart fluttered seeing Brittany smiling wider than ever before. Her eyes sparkled with pure joy.

"And I'm going to kick that curly-haired, douche bag's ass." Santana mumbled grumpily, wiping tears.

Brittany chuckled, "There's no need for that."

Her thumb rubbed mindless circles against the brunette's hand and suddenly everything was okay.

* * *

><p>"San, do you think what we're doing is wrong?"<p>

Santana was far from sleepy, but that didn't prevent her from calling it a night at nine. She didn't feel right leaving Brittany alone in the room, who continued to have headaches and stomach pains.

Brittany's voice came through her jumbled head after an hour of silence where she presumed the blonde was asleep.

"What are we doing wrong, Britt?"

Even in the dark, Santana felt crystal-blue eyes piercing holes through the side of her face, "Sleeping around. With strangers. Every night."

Santana stiffened, completely caught off-guard. She had no idea where that came from. Sometimes, Brittany's train of thought managed to dumbfound her, but right then, Brittany seemed one hundred percent serious.

Was it dangerous? Of course it was, you're have sex with someone who you don't know one thing about, who could be STD infected, a mass murderer, a drug dealer, or whatever the fuck. 'Dangerous' didn't even begin to describe it. But that's why you had to be careful, understand what vibes one was giving. And plus, it never was a big concern for Santana, considering the people she brought home were all women who she could take down in a blink of an eye.

"It is dangerous," she began, "You just have to be careful."

"I know," Brittany murmured, "I can't help but think how lucky I was yesterday. Anything could have happened."

Santana mentally agreed. She, too, couldn't stop thanking her luck that Brittany was fine, that she was let off with just a memory and stomach pains.

"It just made me do a lot of thinking." Brittany continued, "I think I want to stop."

Santana lifted her head, trying to make out the blonde's expression in the dark, "Like, what. Forever? No more sex?" It seemed so absurd to her.

She chuckled at her gobsmacked reaction. "Of course not forever. But maybe, I don't know. Stop doing it so often. Maybe I should start dating. Or take some time to myself. I used to love it because I got to get closer to people, but now... I want to try something different."

"Brittany, you shouldn't let one mishap change your entire life." Santana didn't know why she was freaking out over this. "Maybe you should just ditch men cause they stink and-"

"It's not like I'm going to stop sleeping with you, San."

And once again, Brittany proved to know her better than Santana knew herself.

She blushed, despite herself, "I wasn't wondering, but okay, that's cool. Real cool. Yeah." She could _feel_ Brittany smiling across the room, "So uh, you're serious about this? No more one night stands?"

Brittany sighed, "I'm serious. You should stop, too. We can do this together, like going on a diet!"

The brunette let out a sharp laugh, "No, thanks. I'm perfectly fine with what I'm doing."

"When was the last time you brought someone to the apartment?"

"Er..." Oh, shit. God, thinking about it, the last hook-up she had was...Rachel. Excluding Brittany. It was probably a record for her. What was going on?

"See! You can totally give it up. We can just pretend it's Rent forever!"

Santana groaned into her pillow, "No...and I think you mean Lent."

"Yeah, whatever. Please?"

The brunette sat up, suddenly, feeling irritated by the minute, "I don't understand why it matters what I do."

"I just want you to be safe. I don't want what happened to me happen to you. Or something worse."

"You sound like Quinn." She muttered.

Brittany's intentions were good, Santana understood that. But if she gave into Brittany's pleas, it'll be like...going against everything she believed it. She loved sex. Loved having no strings attached. Because with strings came a whole set of problems she hated to deal with. She swore to herself years back that she'd never going through heartbreak again. Taking a chance at the dating life was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

Santana's reluctance finally got Brittany to shut up. Santana hated being mean to her, or not being able to fulfill her wishes, but there was a line that had to be drawn.

* * *

><p>"You are the world's biggest idiot."<p>

Santana huffed and crossed her arms. "How?"

Quinn glared at her through the computer screen, "You're like..._God, _I don't even know how to explain it! You're like the word's biggest fucking cliche."

"And how am I a cliche?"

"You're the idiot who claims that she can't fall in love because _I'm not good enough _or _my life is too complicated _or _I can't commit cause of reasons._ Usually it's the protagonist in those god-awful movies like Twilight, but in the end they always _do _go for the girl. Could have saved us two hours if he had just went for it in the first place. Ugh, just fucking suck it up and deal with it. Obviously you two have a thing for each other, stop being a_ hero_ and just go for it." Quinn ranted. Her cheeks were red with anger by the end.

Santana stared blankly at her, then, "Who the fuck said anything about falling in love?"

"I did! Cause that's clearly what is happening right now," Quinn rolled her eyes, "Jesus, the sexual tension and attraction I felt in that apartment when I came to visit was utterly unbearable. Oh, and her giving up sex with people _other_ than you_?_ I'm sorry, but that just screams: 'be with me'."

"W-what? B-but that's just absurd! Brittany does _not _have feelings for me! And neither do I! We're just fuck buddies and we enjoy just that. End of." Even Santana could hear the denial in her voice.

"Oh, stop lying to yourself. Like I said, it save us _a lot _of time if you just went straight for it."

"I am not falling in love." Santana stressed.

"Santana."

No. No. No.

"Santana look at me."

"No."

"Look," Quinn's voice became immensely smoother and reassuring, "Don't be scared, okay?"

But she _was _scared. Quinn's lecturing hit a little too close to home, and now the brunette found herself questioning everything. Did Brittany like her? Did _she _like Brittany? Was she falling in love? Why the fuck was she taking Quinn's words to heart? And why was Quinn always right?

With her jaws clenched and with a few goodbyes, she closed her laptop and sat back, glaring at her comforter.

She was _not _falling in love.

* * *

><p>It took every ounce of her power to resist it, but even then, Santana couldn't stop herself from indulging in the warmth of alcohol. Quinn and Brittany's words both put a toll on her thinking and she needed to let it all out.<p>

The bar underneath her apartment was always the most comforting place to go. She was familiar with the bartender and the customers minded their own business, minus one or two flirts who came and left each day.

Her server handed her her second vodka tonic and she happily began drinking it, totally okay if she ended up stumbling drunk into her apartment. The only thing she yearned for was having herself incapable of thinking clearly, therefore thoughts of Brittany and love and sex would stop spiraling in her head.

But her plan to disappear in a drunken bliss was interrupted sooner than expected, "Thought I'd find you here."

Her eyes lifted from the drink to meet clear, blue ones. "Oh. Hi."

Brittany had her dark coat wrapped snugly around her lithe frame and a skirt that was hanging loosely around white tights. Santana guessed she just came from her evening classes. "Whatcha doing all alone?" Brittany sat down on the stool besides her.

To say Santana was pissed Brittany interrupted her would be a lie. The woman just looked so_ beautiful_, with her hair tied back in a loose bun, smiling at her as though she just met a long lost friend. And to add to the cheesiness, the brunette swore the dark, stuffy bar got a hundred times brighter with the blondes presence.

"Did you need anything?" Santana asked. She wasn't anywhere near drunk, so Santana was confident in herself to carry this conversation without saying anything stupid or embarrassing.

"I actually wanted to give you something." Brittany stated with a sly smile. Santana narrowed her eyes in confusion, but Brittany continued, "But before I do, I just want to warn you."

"Okay?"

"I'm not giving this to you because I pity you, or feel sorry." Santana noticed the blonde was choosing her word's very carefully, not wanting to mess it up. She'd fine it incredibly adorable if it weren't for her serious tone, "And I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm giving this to you as a _friend _who wants to thank you for all that you've done."

Santana's stomach fluttered dramatically at the word _friend. _

"You saved me from something that would have turned out horribly wrong, like worse than bath time for Charity. I'm just really grateful to have you in my life and for you to have noticed things even my closest friends didn't realize."

Santana scowled, "Yeah, you need new friends."

Brittany shrugged and pulled out an envelope from her left pocket. "I wanted to give this to you now cause I was afraid you'd go to the bank tomorrow morning, since tomorrow is the deadline. So yeah." She pushed it toward Santana over the counter, "Here."

Santana eyed the white envelope suspiciously, having an inkling what it was. Her finger tore the side open and shook out a folded check. Her suspicions were confirmed.

The check was clearly Brittany's share for the month...except, it was doubled.

"I don't get it..." Santana muttered, glancing up at blue, anxious eyes.

"It's a gift."

"No, no, Brittany," Santana said quickly and gently, "I can't accept this. You don't-"

A pale hand covered her's. "But you must. It took me hours to figure out how to write a check, don't let it go to waste, now."

"But money? Brittany, you could have gotten me anything else and I'd be fine. But this much money? I can't." The guilt was eating away at her, because with one look at Brittany's determined eyes, she knew she had no way out of this.

"Please?" Brittany whispered. They both looked around, making sure they weren't making a scene, "It's just this once. I won't do it again for the rest of our lives, promise. Unless we get married and have kids and joined bank acc-"

Santana's eyes widened, face flushed. She cleared her throat quickly, interrupting Brittany's ramblings by shoving her drink down her throat. "Mmm. This- _This_ is good, have- have you tried this? So good."

From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Brittany holding back a laugh. _This girl was doing it on purpose. Fucking genius._

"So it's settled?" Brittany said after a long pause, "You take the money, be happy, don't worry about rent and enjoy your next paycheck. You should totally spend it on new shoes. Or a strap-on."

"I have a strap on already." Santana was offended. They'd even used it before!

"It's not big enough." Brittany simply put, crossing her legs.

She gaped at the blonde. Okay, maybe _Charlie _was a few inches shy of-

"You know what? We're totally off topic. I am not accepting this check, so don't make me go all Lima Heights on you, woman." It was a big lie, and they both knew it. Santana would never dream of harming her roommate- _friend. _

"I'm bored of this conversation, I should get a drink." Brittany quickly relieved Santana of her attention and called for the bartender. As she ordered her beverage, Santana couldn't help but stare in disbelief and awe.

This girl was seriously an angel sent from heaven. No question.

There were so many things she wanted to tell her right then and there. Like how much she didn't deserve her. How ridiculous it was that a bitch like her was blessed with such a kind soul. How unbelievably _good _Brittany was to her, even though Santana had done nothing in return.

She wanted to kiss her right in the middle of that room. Hold her close and force the blonde to never leave her.

Because eventually, it will come down to that.

Instead, she laid a gentle hand on her roommate's shoulder. Brittany turned her head, looking up at Santana with such trust and comfort. And love.

Yeah, there was a bit of love in there, after all.

Santana gulped before speaking up, "Come with me upstairs?"

They'd known one another for a few months, but even with that time, they already established a method of communicating without words.

With one look into Santana's sure, dark orbs, Brittany nodded and followed her through the doors.

* * *

><p>The door softly closed behind them. The apartment was dark, but neither made a move toward the light switch.<p>

Santana turned to her roommate, eyes flickering with a million emotions. Brittany was scanning her face, expressionless. They remained still in that position, thoughts and confessions passing between their eyes. Soon, Santana felt her hand twitch, suddenly needing contact.

In a swift movement, Santana stalked towards Brittany, never letting go of their intense eye-lock. Brittany closed her eyes just as Santana cupped her cheek, leaning forward to press her lips against sweet, pink ones.

It was slow and sensual, nothing they'd ever tried before. Santana's thumb rubbed lazy circles behind the blonde's neck as she drew Brittany closer, running her tongue along her upper lip. Brittany, in return, ran her hands up and down the smaller girls back, nibbling against a plump lip. Santana's moan of approval spurred her on.

Her hands pushed against Santana's jacket, the clothing falling mercilessly against the floor. Santana, though, held fast to her hand, preventing Brittany from dragging her tank-top over her head.

"Bedroom." She whispered against a cheekbone.

Hand in hand, Santana led them to their room, eyes making one quick scan, deciding which bed.

"Mine?" Brittany asked amusingly.

"Yours." She turned once more to Brittany, kissing her hard and passionately. Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

She knelt on the bed and brought Brittany down with her. Brittany lightly pressed against her shoulders. The brunette softly collided with the mattress, gazing up at wondrous blue eyes.

"You're so beautiful..." Brittany murmured, bending down to plant small kisses against Santana's neck.

She gave her more access, closing her eyes briefly before whispering, "You're perfect."

Her heart sped up ten folds when she felt Brittany falter her movements. She mentally cursed herself. If she could take back her words she would, but...

"Don't." Her thoughts came to a halt with Brittany's demand. "You're doing that thing you do when you're about to close your heart. Don't close your heart."

Santana felt her throat close up and her eyes water. God, was she about to cry during sex?

"Just be with me." Brittany mumbled. She nuzzled Santana's face, waiting for a response.

Santana pulled her tighter to herself, not wanting to ever let go.

She was tired of questioning her feelings, denying them. For the time being, she just wanted to live in this moment, letting Brittany take the reins, cause clearly she knew Santana better than the brunette knew herself.

"Okay," she sniffed, "Okay."

Their tongues tangled once more in a renewed sense of urgency. Clothes started to pile up and soon Santana was wearing nothing but her undergarments. Her breath quickened as Brittany kissed the underside of her breast.

Just as Brittany's hand reached the clasp of her bra, Santana's eyes shot wide open.

At the rate they were going, soon both of them would be completely naked and exposed. Previously, she'd make it her mission to avoid complete skin to skin contact, but now...

"Off." Her hand tore off Brittany's bra the same time the blonde released hers.

They both let out a breathy moan when Brittany pressed her nude torso entirely on top of Santana. The feeling was extraordinary. Santana could feel the other woman's warmth and heartbeat. By choosing to relinquish this sensation years ago, she almost forgot how wonderful it felt being this close to someone.

Brittany, then, dragged a thigh between Santana's legs and placed a small amount of pressure at the juncture of her body.

"Oh, god..." She hadn't realized how wet she was. Embarrassingly so.

She urged their mouths together and moaned into the heated kiss. Brittany stroked her cheeks, breast, stomach and legs, sliding a thumb into her pantie. With a final gaze at a quivering Santana, she slid the garment off.

Santana sighed at the feel of Brittany at her entrance. She kissed the brunette slowly and slipped inside, beginning a gentle rhythm that had Santana rocking against in an instant.

There was no one, nothing, more important at that moment. It was just her and Brittany.

When she came, her entire body nearly lifted off the bed, clinging onto Brittany as though she were her lifeline.

Brittany merely smiled and kissed her lips sweetly while she caught her breath. Santana exhaled deeply and rolled her head lazily. Sleep was easily washing over her, but before she could succumb to it, Brittany shifted and Santana was suddenly very aware of how wet the blonde was.

With a smirk, she flipped them over and began descending down the blonde's perfect body.

* * *

><p>Later that night, as expected, Santana's mind was racing.<p>

She had her head in her hands, sitting against the edge of Brittany's bed, the girl fast asleep. What felt like smugness flickered through her quickly, loving the fact that she could make the blonde pass out so quickly. It was gone seconds later once the implications of the night became clear.

There was without a doubt a huge shift in their relationship. The sex wasn't...sex.

It meant so much more, every action, every word uttered, the way her heart pounded uncontrollably, melting against the bare contact.

"Fucking shit..." she whispered into the dark room. Her naked body shivered, though not from the cold.

Quinn's words were repeating endlessly in her head. _Stop being a hero and just go for it._

Instead, Santana stood up, dressed as quickly but quietly as possible, and did the one thing she was best at.

She fled.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm iffy about this chapter tbh. Review if you'd like to :)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**You guys are all so fucking awesome. But I need a Beta, I think. I don't know how it works or if this even is the right way to request one but PM if you're interested.  
><strong>

**Love, love, love you guys!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The sudden burst of chilly cold air surprised Santana as she stepped out of the apartment complex.<p>

Los Angeles was generally a mildly tempered city, so the fact that it was fucking freezing out was abnormal. Kind of made her want to go back to her apartment and get a jacket, but...

She shook her head and wrapped two arms around herself, wondering what the fuck she should do now.

There was no desire in her to be inside that apartment. All the breathtaking, content, _beautiful_ emotions she was experiencing hours before have all drained out of her system. The only thing she was feeling as she took a few steps towards the main side walk was fear.

Fear of love, of emotions, of _Brittany. _

And she had no freaking clue why.

Her feet made her mind up for her. They took her farther away from the building without her registering it. She really had no destination.

_See this is why you shouldn't be a bitch to everyone, that way you'd have friends who'd let you crash their place for the night. Idiot._

She was so out of it she didn't notice a voice calling her.

"Santana." The voice not unfamiliar.

Her head turned to the sight of Brenda, the woman with the number. She was leaning against the wall plants, lazily smoking a cigarette. Normally, a woman smoking turned her on slightly, but the sight before did nothing for her lady groins. She mentally groaned.

"Oh, hey." She replied, turning fully towards her.

"What are you doing out this late? And with no jacket..." Brenda raised her brow towards Santana's bare arms.

She scowled in return, "I could ask you the same thing."

Brenda shrugged and indicated toward her cigarette, "Baby was making a fuss. This is the only way to relieve the tension and stress."

"You have a baby?" The woman looked Santana's age, give or take a few years.

"Nah. It's my neighbors kid. Won't stop screaming in the middle of the night. Devil child..."

Santana nodded slowly and stepped up. The scent of tobacco was quite intriguing. It brought old memories of mid-terms, finals, and even late night parties. It was a phase in her life she'd rather forget (there were a lot of those). Tobacco was extremely horrible, but at this moment, she desired nothing except that cancer stick.

"I feel like you're about to molest my stick if I don't hand you one soon." Brenda laughed, reaching for her pockets. Santana watched in relief as she provided her one. "Rough night?"

Brenda held out a lighter as Santana came to stand beside her. "Actually the opposite." Santana pursed her lips once the words escaped them. She didn't know this chick well. There was absolutely no reason to start opening up to her.

"Interesting." They fell into a comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by a fit of coughs on Santana's part. Her lungs weren't used to the cigarette. It'd been awhile.

A small taxi passed the street adjacent to them. A memory struck her. "Uh. Brenda, is it?" The woman nodded. "Thanks for um, lending me that taxi the other morning. It helped a lot."

Santana wasn't used to thanking people, hopefully she didn't sound like an idiot. She certainly felt like one.

"No problem." Was the woman's simple reply.

They stayed in that position until Santana was done with her cigarette. The tobacco completely cleared her mind from all troubles and musings. She felt nothing but relief.

"So, I'll be heading in." Brenda kicked back against the stone and walked forward.

"Oh. Okay." An ounce of her previous panic settled back into her heart. Was she now suppose to go back to her room? With Brittany? The thought scared her and she gulped.

Brenda seemed to read Santana's inner panic. "Wanna come up to my place? For the night?"

It wasn't a question the brunette was expecting. Her brows shot up to her hairline and she struggled to form words. Her instinctual answer would be 'No, it's alright', but thankfully, she gave it a second thought.

"That'd be awesome."

As they made their way upstairs, Santana thought over her actions. Was Brenda expecting sex? She really wasn't giving off the vibes, thank God. Wouldn't it be weird to be in an apartment of someone who recently gave you their number and not expect sex?

Has she ever been in another woman's place_ without_ having sex?

She seriously needed to reevaluate her life. Like Brittany.

Fuck, Brittany...

"I'm sorry if the place is all messy. Wasn't expecting anyone tonight." Brenda opened the door and revealed an apartment slightly larger than her own. It had the same structure, but with an extra room.

Santana wondered why she was cursed with the shittiest apartment in the complex.

"Make yourself at home. I'm just going to turn the heater on." Brenda disappeared down the hall, leaving Santana to observe the place.

Except, she wasn't doing much observing when her heart continuously pounded against her rib cage, practically screaming at her on how utterly _wrong_ this whole idea suddenly seemed.

"Do you want to sleep now, or...?" Brenda looked extremely happy. As if she couldn't believe her luck Santana was there and willing to spend the night.

It wasn't right.

"I, uh..." _God, think, think, think..._

"Unfortunately, I only have one bed. You can take it and I can sleep on the couch. Unless you don't mind sharing." Brenda added, coyly.

Clearly, she planned this from the moment they entered. Any respectful person wouldn't allow Brenda to sleep on the cold, hard couch, and offer to share the one bed. Santana was basically stuck.

In any other situation, everything would be okay. She'd share and cuddle with this stranger. Even fuck her.

But, _dammit_, she just basically made love to her roommate. Her sweet, loving, and caring roommate, who was probably still sleeping in bed, naked, dreaming of unicorns and happy endings. Her roommate, who probably expects to wake up sleepily to an equally drowsy Santana, basking in the morning lights, recalling memories of their treasured night.

But here she was, not even three hours after they had sex, in another woman's apartment. Planning to go to sleep on the same bed.

It felt like cheating.

She was fucking cheating on Brittany.

"I need to go."

Brenda blinked, and then laughed disbelievingly. "Sorry?"

"This was...a mistake. I need to- Thanks, but no thanks." With that, she turned around quickly and dashed out.

Brittany was fucking waiting for her.

* * *

><p>When she entered the apartment, not even two minutes later, it was uncharacteristically cold. Don't get her wrong, it was always fucking chilly, but given the circumstances of the night, she'd expect it to be a lot warmer and reeking of sex.<p>

There was no sign of Brittany in the living room, or any sign of her presence in the past hour.

She entered the hallway and nudged her bedroom door open, slightly. The sight revealed to her caused her body to slump and her mouth to escape a sigh.

Brittany was tangled up in the sheets, head sunken into Santana's previous side of the pillow, as if she was breathing the brunette's scent in her absence. Her knees were drawn close to her chest, and it was obvious the blonde was cold.

She entered the bedroom with purpose. Her hand reached for her own comforter. She crossed the room to the other side and gently covered Brittany's bare body with it, making sure every inch of smooth skin was covered in warmth.

It was too soon. Too soon to crawl in bed and hold her. Santana wasn't ready. She didn't know if she ever will be. Or what she was exactly getting ready for. But, it was progress. She acknowledged that. It was progress just by being there and not in some random chicks bed. It was progress for her to place a comforter over the blonde's lithe body, to pull back her hair and kiss her cold forehead.

Santana could feel it within her. Something was changing inside of her. It was extremely scary, but she accepted it.

Hard not to when Brittany smiled and scrunched her nose up like that whilst asleep.

Fucking adorable.

* * *

><p>"Santana? Santana?"<p>

Her first thought when she woke up the next morning was an onslaught of curses. She was having a fucking awesome dream. Something about a female dominated society and-

"Are you awake?" Brittany's voice broke her pointless thoughts. Predictably, it also eased her rage.

"Obviously." She sat up, rubbing her eyes, "What time is it?"

"Six."

She fell back onto her pillow and groaned unintelligibly.

"San, how did you end up on your bed?" Britt asked. There was an edge of hurt in her voice that caused Santana's heart to clench in pain.

She resorted to lying. Because saying _I panicked, left you,__ went outside, saw Brenda, smoked, and planned on sleeping with her _didn't sit well with her. "Got up to get some water."

Brittany pouted and was about to question further when she smelt something, "Why do smell like cigarettes?"

Her heart raced for an answer, "I- I don't know." Brilliant.

Brittany gave her an odd look, but decided not to push it further, fortunately.

So far their conversation did nothing to erase the frown on Brittany's face. It was a total contrast to what they both felt the previous night. But-

"So," Brittany began. Her frown disappeared suddenly, replaced with a smirk, "I really enjoyed last night and I wanted to tell you that before I went to work."

Santana smiled shyly, "Yeah, me too." Her eyes flickered down to Brittany's lips. It would be so simple to just lean forward and kiss her.

The energy between them was charged with something different. It was no longer lust filled or greedy. The previous night had made a huge impact on their chemistry. She felt passion and emotions Santana had never shared with someone before. Her heart constantly pounded in Brittany's presence.

"I should get going." Brittany announced, standing up. But before so, her head bent down to place a gentle kiss on Santana's forehead. All the blood in her system rushed to a certain point in her body, leaving Santana flustered and light-headed. All because of an innocent kiss.

Brittany smiled once more over her shoulders and then exited their place.

* * *

><p>Santana begged Shuester for a full time job, once upon a time. But the bastard insisted it wouldn't help anyone, so he only gave her a part time shift that she was both frustrated and grateful for. She loved having free days, but the fucking money wasn't enough to maintain a healthy lifestyle (well, thank God for Brittany). It was a free day for her that morning.<p>

After Brittany left, she quickly took a shower, ridding herself of any scent of smoke. She mentally cursed herself over and over for not taking a shower when she first came in. How on Earth did Brittany not question her further on the matter was beyond her.

It was a quarter till twelve when she actually made it to the kitchen. She was thinking a protein bar and orange juice will do (Brittany scolded her once for her eating habits and then shoved a pancake in her mouth minutes later).

That was when she noticed it. Brittany's lunch bag.

She paused in her stride towards their fridge, eying the object with confusion. Since when did she eat homemade lunch? Santana seriously thought Brittany bought food out. She shrugged and continued her trip to the orange juice.

But when her hand reached for the box of protein bars, she fell back onto her heels. Her eyes lingered once again to the forgotten lunch.

Wouldn't Brittany be disappointed when she figures out her lunch wasn't with her? She would probably be starving throughout the day. She actually spent the time to make herself a meal in the morning, and to let all that effort go to waste? It wouldn't be fair for Brittany. And Santana hated a sad Brittany.

Pursing her lips, she thought her sudden decision through before nodding and grabbing the Hello Kitty lunchbox.

Brittany's studio was exactly fifteen minutes away, but in true Santana fashion, it took her about an hour (the bus dropped her off in a location that actually was farther away from the studio than her own apartment).

Nearly three seconds away from kicking the next person who passed her on the sidewalk, she finally made it to the Chang's dance studio.

Her first thought was to enter, drop the lunchbox by Tina's counter and walk out. That plan was completely destroyed upon first glance at what was happening on the dance floor.

Her mouth literally dropped when she saw Brittany dancing. Okay, dancing was an understatement. That was...

She gulped and unconsciously stepped forward until her toes were touching the blue mat.

She had never seen Brittany dance before, in all her time spent with the blonde. Sure, she sometimes broke out into a cute dance routine in the middle of the apartment, but actually _seeing_ her, witnessing her in an actual dancing environment...

The music was blasting in the stereos around the room, a mash-up of two of Britney Spears's songs, a ballad and a fast-paced duet. Everyone else on the mat was kneeling down, watching Brittany and two back up dancers own the floor. The beat of the music flowed through her, her limbs and hips thrusting in precision and effortless talent. It wasn't as though Brittany was dancing to the music, the music was playing to her dancing.

Her roommate practically glided across the mat before stopping just as the last note was played. The room erupted in applause.

Santana jumped in surprise before joining in on the well-deserved applause. She felt herself smiling brightly at her equally cheerful roommate who continued bowing over and over again. When Brittany turned to bow towards Santana's direction, her eyes caught dark brown. She did a double take at first, but her face broke into a wide smile when Santana waved.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Brittany exclaimed, jogging up to Santana a few minutes later.

Santana lifted the lunchbox and waved it between them, "You forgot this," Brittany mouth fell open, "Thought you'd be a bit disappointed once you realized it wasn't with you."

Brittany grimaced, "I always forget little things like this. Thanks, though," she gathered Santana into a hug, "You didn't have to come all the way here just for a silly sandwich."

The brunette sighed into the hug, loving the feeling of her roommate pressed tightly against her, "It was worth it. Especially seeing that dance."

They broke apart and Brittany settled the bag on the table. Santana watched her face closely, the sweat slowly trickling down her temple, her slightly pink tinted cheeks that Santana wasn't sure was from the heat or something else. The sight was oddly arousing. She bit her lip and stepped back.

"Did you like it?" Brittany asked enthusiastically.

"I've never seen you dance and I don't know what took me so long. You're amazing." She answered truthfully.

Brittany beamed shyly and lowered her gaze to the ground. Santana really wanted to grab her chin and lift it so she can once again see those bright blue eyes that never failed to make her heart flutter.

_Hell, Lopez, want some crackers with that cheese?_

"Is there something on my face?" Brittany lifted a hand to her cheek in wonder.

Santana shook her head fast, "No, no, I was just..." Just being an idiot.

And then an odd thing happened: Brittany grabbed her hand.

"So I was wondering..." Brittany swung her left arm, hand caught between two warm hands. Santana was too busy staring at it in shock to decipher any words, "Instead of going back to that lonely apartment, maybe we can grab some lunch together? Santana?"

Santana jumped and snapped her attention back to the curious blonde, "Lunch sounds good!" She didn't realize what she said until it left her mouth, "Wait."

Brittany's expression fell just as fast as it had brightened.

"What about your lunch pack?" Brittany instantly went back to smiling, bouncing on the heels of her feet.

"I'll put it in the fridge for Tina. She's always mooching off my food." Santana rolled her eyes along with Brittany. They smiled bashfully at each other when they noticed each other's actions.

Someone called Brittany's name across the room, breaking their moment. The blonde waved her hand and signaled to some random man by the mat. With that, she turned to Santana, all smiles, "Great! I'll get my stuff and we'll head out." Before Santana could decline her invitation to lunch (because she still hadn't agreed to it), Brittany quickly swooped in and planted a sweet kiss to her cheek, and that was that.

* * *

><p>They decided to lounge at a local Panera Bread for Brittany's thirty minute break.<p>

It was when they both sat down on opposite ends of the booth that Santana realized how nervous she was. There going to have an actual conversation, one that will no doubt cover the events of last night. She didn't know if she was ready, or what exactly Brittany wanted from her.

"You're thinking," Brittany quipped.

She leaned back against her seat and mindlessly fondled with a nearby napkin, "I'm not really thinking. More like...wondering."

Brittany adjusted herself so her upper body was almost leaning half way across the table, focusing intently on Santana. "What are you wondering about?" She asked coyly.

Her eyes flickered up to Brittany, silently pleading for the blonde to understand how difficult it was to voice her thoughts. _Us, _she wanted to answer. It was on the tip of her tongue, but just then, the waiter arrived and placed the food before them. Brittany was eyeing her soup hungrily, hand already reaching for a half sandwich.

Both women said their 'thanks' and watched the waiter walk off. Due to the distraction, Santana lost any ounce of courage. The moment was gone and it left her feeling truly horrible about herself. She honestly didn't know why.

"What were you saying?" Brittany spoke with a bunch of lettuce and chips in her mouth.

Santana giggled softly at the sight, heart clenching. "Nothing, I was just wondering about, you know, college and stuff."

Brittany frowned and placed her sandwich back on the yellow plate. She crossed her hands between them and studied Santana for a moment. Finally, she sighed and said, "I had a cat once. His name was Rootie Tootie."

Santana slowly nodded at this new found information. How many cats did this woman have?

"It died when I was six."

Santana grimaced, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged nonchalantly, "He was my favorite cat. So tiny it could pass as a kitten, but it was older than what Lord Tubbington is now. He was super shy and kind of hard to get on his good side, though. Whenever he wanted something he never made it clear, I always had to figure it out through his actions. If he pooped in the bathroom, he was angry and rebellious. If he was missing for a few days, he felt sad and lonely. It took the entire family years to get him. No one bothered. But I understood him for some reason. It all came down to the fact that no one understood him."

Santana pursed her lips. She didn't want to interrupt Brittany's story. The look on her roommate's face was unreal. How could such a human look that insanely pretty speaking about a dead cat? Her eyes gleamed in unshed tears, and it took every ounce of her power not to reach out and grab her hand.

"He was lonely and scared. All I wanted for him was to be happy. I didn't care how. I wanted Tootie to feel loved and understand that it was the world's greatest feline, that his mom still loved him even though she left him out in the cold. There was still a chance for him in this world only if he opened up."

Brittany gazed up at a silent Santana. "I just hope he died happy. I hope I was a good owner for him."

"You were." And this time, Santana did pluck up the courage to reach out for the blonde's hand. "You are the best anything anyone could ask for. Trust me."

Her other hand covered Santana's. Brittany smiled warmly, "And trust me when I say you deserve all the happiness in the world."

Santana's smile faltered and she finally understood.

* * *

><p>"Talk to me."<p>

"I have feelings."

"Yes, I realized that ten years ago after you drank every last drop of my father's alcohol cabinet. You wouldn't stop crying for hours."

Santana narrowed her eyes. She did not remember that... "I mean, I have feelings for my...roommate."

"Say her name." Quinn said over the phone.

Santana pouted and whispered through gritted teeth, "I have feelings for Brittany."

"Atta', girl." She heard Quinn laugh, "Took you long enough. What happened?"

The brunette sighed and collapsed on the couch. She wasn't afraid of revealing everything to Quinn, the blonde was her best friend. It was still nerve-wrecking, though. "A lot of shit. I've just...I can't stop thinking about her lately. And it's those in your face, never going away thoughts. The other day we..." She didn't know how to describe that particular night to Quinn. Calling it sex was demeaning, but saying 'they made love' out loud made everything seem so real. "The other day we slept together and it was different. Like sensual and not frantic. It totally changed everything. And today we had coffee and talked and she told me this depressing story about Rootie Tootie the kitten cat. And Quinn, I think I'm the reincarnation of her cat." Santana paused, brows furrowed, "That doesn't even make sense. Forget I said that. Ugh..."

Quinn hummed on the other line, indicating she was all ears. She understood Santana's struggle with words, so she tried her best to play the part of a patient friend.

"I feel like we're both on the same page, waiting for something even bigger to happen for us to finally...I don't know." She groaned, throwing her head into her hands, "What if she doesn't like me back?"

"She does like you back,_ like_ being an understatement." Quinn answered.

"How do you know?"

"Because women are only nice to you for two reasons, one, they're afraid of you or, two, they've got a serious girl crush."

A look of complete wonder washed over the brunette's face, "Oh my god, you're right."

"Well, yeah." Her best friend said smugly. "And before you ask, I'm an exception. Actually, I'm _pretty sure_ you were scared of me at first. And then you started crushing on me."

Santana gasped in horror, "Fucking not true! I only chose to be second in command for the Cheerios because it was too much pressure and bad for my skin. Plus, you're white and we all know how racist that bitch of a school was." Complete lie. Quinn had a thing over her in high school and maybe even now. While Santana was always a bitch, always seeking control and power, Quinn was always a step ahead of her in that department. Her strive for perfection gave Santana a headache. The brunette was content being a follower for a period of time, stealing secret glances under her peers' Cheerio skirts. Quinn had all the attention. She was meant for the role of Head Cheerleader and not even Santana could have, or wanted to, overthrow her.

"Ah, so you admit you had a crush on me?" Quinn quipped, bringing Santana back to reality.

She rolled her eyes, "Obviously. Didn't you figure it when I practically forced you to make out with me so we could practice _for the boys_?"

She heard Quinn struggle to find a good comeback and save face. "Whatever, we're going off topic and if I don't solve your problems, you're never going to let me go." Santana rolled her eyes, "Why are you so unwilling to just ask her out, anyway?" Quinn asked as though she just realized this whole subject was a waste of her time, which it probably was, "You're out and proud. Your parents accept you. Nothing in the world is preventing you from being with this chick, so _why_?" Quinn was practically begging by the end, exasperated.

Santana couldn't believe she had to repeat herself, "Because I'm afraid she doesn't like me! Or only see's me as a best friend or something. I'm afraid of commitment! Of attachment! She's just like me too, Quinn. She probably hasn't had a boyfriend for ever and how can I just expect her to let everything go and be with a worthless idiot like me?"

"...Because she already did?" Quinn slowly stated, "Remember? Letting go of the one night stands...only sleeping with you?"

Santana growled and tightened her grip on the phone, "It's just not that simple. Yes, I'm a flaming lesbian and she's as probably bisexual, but this isn't high school. This is the real life. She's my roommate. Any mistake, any miscommunicating, and that's it. It's either going to be so awkward in this apartment that I'll suffocate from it, or she'll leave for good. I...Quinn, I can't let that happen. She can't leave, I..." Santana took a deep breath, tears building in her eyes, "She's the only good thing in my life and I need her."

Quinn was silent on the other end. Santana would have thought the line disconnected if it weren't for the steady, calm breathing coming through. Finally, when Quinn spoke, Santana felt as though her last hope had been destroyed.

"I know you're going to kill me for saying this, Santana, but there's nothing I can do. I can only advise you to follow your heart. Whatever you do, just...don't ignore it."

That was possibly the world's most worthless piece of advice, Santana decided.

* * *

><p>When Brittany arrived home that evening, Santana was surprised.<p>

"You're not going out?" She asked over her shoulder. Brittany was hanging her coat on the rack.

"Out for what?" Brittany looked genuinely confused.

Santana asked herself the question too when she suddenly remembered that Brittany no longer did the whole clubbing thing. It was the first night since her declaration.

Truthfully, the thought of Brittany being home and not_ out there, _where a repeat of the other night could happen again, was reassuring. No random, greasy men clogging up her apartment. And more importantly: no random, greasy men touching her precious roommate. Her mood suddenly lightened and she allowed herself to bask in the contentedness not previously there. She wasn't aware of the silly smile lingering on her face when Brittany called her out on it.

"Did you order porn again?"

She blanched, "No...that's Tuesdays, sweetie."

She heard Brittany giggle and walk around the couch, plopping herself right next to Santana. The brunette turned the television off and focused her attention to blue eyes.

A moment passed between them where no words were spoken. There really was no room for talking when their eyes were speaking all that needed to be said. Santana let her gaze travel across smooth skin, memorizing each individual freckle, locking gazes with crystal orbs. Her heart felt at ease, as though she could sit here for a million years and never get bored staring at such beauty. Brittany's smile was slowly growing as she too was lost in Santana's eyes.

"I want to take you out." Brittany spoke up after a few minutes.

Santana gulped, feeling herself growing anxious fast.

"Relax, relax," Brittany scooted up to place a hand on Santana's cheek, "Let's just get out of here. It's karaoke night in one of the clubs by the port, we can check it out. If you want."

It was in her nature to decline any invitation, but the honest, open gaze Brittany was piercing her with shot down any objections, "I'm not singing, though."

Brittany smirked, "Sure, Lopez."

* * *

><p><strong>I have a request from you guys. And this is all just for fun, if you want to participate. I want you guys to submit any prompt for this fic. Specifically a kink prompt. I guess I'm running out of ideas for smut. I'll choose the best two prompts and somehow incorporate it into the story line. So go ahead and request any sex scenario in the reviews for our two favorite characters. This story is over halfway done so I want to end it with some nice scenes. Be creative! Love you guys!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

At eight in the night, Santana found herself being dragged by Brittany down a busy sidewalk, headed toward a crowded night club.

She had a hard time deciding whether she wanted to glare at leering perverts, or at their interlaced fingers hanging between them as Brittany side stepped people. She chose the former in the end after almost falling when she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings.

"This is an awfully busy place for a karaoke night." Santana grumbled. She could see the sign for the nightclub at the distance.

"I was told it was karaoke night. People love karaoke, San. It's a fact of life." Brittany replied over her shoulder.

"Yeah and that's why we have youtube and video games for it." She was complaining for the sake of complaining. Brittany knew that and simply rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Well, either way you will be dancing with me, even if the singer stinks like cow poop."

"I don't dance. I drink." She let her eyes roam over the dark ocean on her left. She couldn't see shit due to darkness, but she knew it was present from the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore line.

"Don't make me pout." Brittany stopped suddenly and Santana snapped her head back. The blonde had her head turned to Santana, her bottom lip jutting out adorably.

"I'm not falling for that!" Santana half-yelled and half-laughed. "I'm not dancing!"

Brittany's pout only grew to the point where her upper lip was no longer visible.

Santana gasped in exasperation, "You're seriously gonna do this in the middle of a side walk where everyone can see?"

Brittany nodded.

"No."

"Would you rather sing?" Brittany mumbled through the pout.

Santana visibly paled. "Absolutely not."

Truth was, Santana liked to sing. Maybe a little bit more than 'like'. Okay, a lot. Alright, she really fucking loved to sing. But only alone, when no one was watching or listening. She sung often at home; blasting Amy Whinehouse across her apartment when Brittany was at work. Quinn said she was an amazing singer, and it had been her childhood dream to become one, but her father shot down that dream with a single lecture on_ being realistic_.

Plus, nothing was wrong with politics. Except, there were no jobs.

"One dance." Santana pointed at an unrelenting Brittany.

"Deal."

Cursing herself for falling easily for a fake pout, Santana walked in stride next to Brittany. Ten feet away from them the entrance to the club stood, neon signs decorating its exterior. Santana's eyes narrowed at the tinted windows and guards. She wasn't expecting such dramatic security for a club that hosted karaoke.

"Britt, are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Duh." Brittany automatically answered. Her hand grabbed Santana's arm roughly and pulled her to the small line. "This is going to be so much fun! I've always wanted to go out with you."

Her attention snapped back to Brittany, "What?"

But Brittany's eyes were wide and body tense as though she just witnessed a ghost. Not meeting dark eyes, she quickly spoke up, "Nothing. Um, have your I.D. out! Quick!"

Giving her an odd look, Santana shoved her hand into her pocket to retrieve her wallet, then paused. "Is this some sort of strip club?"

"Next." A gruff man barked by the door. His attire indicated he was a police man, but his holster bared no gun. Santana never really counted those people as police. There were like the equivalent of a fly. Always getting in the way, but can never truly harm you. She's had some funny encounter in the past...

Brittany skipped closer and showed him the card. The man's eyes narrowed at her figure then flickered to her I.D. Santana approached cautiously from behind.

"Proceed."

Santana scowled as his eyes landed on her. "Honestly, dude," she stated coolly, "Quit looking like you'd rather be pissing on your mom's foot. Arguably, you've got the greatest job in the world, being able to check out chicks without getting called out on it. Smile a little, won't you?"

"Santana." Brittany warned ahead of her.

She smiled wickedly at the glaring man and followed her roommate through revolving doors.

"Alright, now where is the- holy sweet hell."

It was like walking into her teenage dream. The entire club was filled with hundreds of women, half of them grinding against each other in the middle of the dance floor, others fiercely making out in dark corners, and to Santana's complete pleasure, in a couple of stations around the room, some were pole dancing.

The music was blasting incredibly loud, drowning out her voice when she yelled into an equally shocked Brittany. "Karaoke, huh?"

"I-I was told it was karaoke night...not..." Brittany shook her head in wonder.

With great timing, a lady popped out of nowhere before them, holding a tray of drinks, "Welcome ladies to Sapphic Night! Would you like our lemon vodka cocktail?"

"Gladly," Santana whispered enthusiastically, reaching for one.

"What's Sapphic Night?" Brittany asked uncertainly. She looked to Santana for explanation, but her roommate was too busy watching two girls eat each others face. At least, that was what it looked like.

Brittany frowned and grabbed a cocktail.

Meanwhile, Santana was overcome with joy. Obviously, Brittany had the wrong information or they both just went to a different club. Either way, the brunette had no regrets coming here. She couldn't believe no one informed her of this event before. Then again, other than Brittany, she didn't really talk to people.

"Lesbians. Everywhere." Santana turned an eye towards Brittany who was twirling her drink around with a sad face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm sure you'd rather go hang out with some cute chick than stay here with me." Brittany sighed and stared up at Santana, a smile that didn't really meet her eyes appearing on her face, "It's okay. I'll just dance the whole night."

Santana wasn't used to seeing Brittany like this. The blonde rarely got sad, and her smiles were usually genuine. It pained her knowing Brittany would think she'd just leave and get her flirt on with some stranger bitch. The only person in the club she'd want to do that with was Brittany. "Now wait. When did I say I was going to ditch you?"

Brittany's frown remained plastered to her face.

"Hey." Santana poked her nose, "Don't be sad. We're going to have fun even though its not karaoke. How about I make it up to you by dancing as many time as you request?"

A hint of a smile began forming on her face. Santana mentally patted herself on the back.

She leaned up to whisper in the blonde's ear, "I'll also do _whatever_ you want of me...tonight."

Santana could literally feel Brittany's excitement. It was a risque thing to say considering she was still confused on where they stood in this friendship slash relationship. But if it took away that sad frown on Brittany's face, Santana found that she could promise the impossible and still not care. As long as Brittany was happy.

"You're evil, but I love it," Brittany grinned, grabbing onto Santana's free hand, "And I kind of want to dance now. This song is my favorite."

Santana sighed dramatically, "If you say so."

Brittany and Santana were three feet away from the dance floor before their path was once again blocked by a woman. This time, though, the woman had her eyes set and narrowed at Santana.

"You." She sneered and pointed in the brunette's direction.

Santana retracted and looked over at Brittany in confusion who could only gaze back questioningly. "Me?"

"What, do you not remember me or something? Was I that unimportant to you?" The woman seriously looked like she was about to pounce and rip Santana's eyes out.

"Who the hell are you?" Santana yelled.

The woman huffed and stalked forward. "Look. Closely."

Santana sneered at their closeness, "All I see is two fat pimples ready to explode all over your greasy face."

She gasped in horror and took a dozen steps back from a chuckling Santana. "Fucking bitch!" It looked as though she was crying when she dashed into the thick crowd.

Santana gave her best bitch smirk at the retreating form and crossed her arms. Brittany looked non too pleased with her.

"That was totally unnecessary, San." She sighed.

"Bitch deserved it. Who the hell does she think she is walking up to me and saying all that nonsense?"

Brittany gave a thoughtful look, "I'm pretty sure you slept with her few months back."

"I did?" She exclaimed. Her mind went through all the faces of her one night stands, not really remembering the hysterical woman. "Wait, how the hell would you know?"

Her nose scrunched up in distaste, "I remember her clogging up our toilet."

Santana laughed aloud, her side bumping into Brittany's. The blonde seemed happy to put such a smile on Santana's face, pulse quickening when Santana looped an arm around her's. "Let's get some real drinks. This tastes like shit."

The pair walked alongside the dance floor towards the main bar. Santana eyed every woman that passed her, studying their faces. Panic started creeping into her when she realized some women seemed familiar. Christ, she's probably fucked half the room. The thought alone made her nauseous. Brittany noticed her growing discomfort.

"You okay?"

Santana shook her head in reassurance. "It's just a bit hot in here."

Before the either of them could call for the bartender, a shrill voice broke through the surrounding air, "Santana!"

Brittany turned her head sharply, while Santana groaned, "Not again..."

It was worse than what she imagined.

Rachel fucking Berry was walking towards them in long, purposeful strides. Her smile was so wide, it brought shivers down Santana's spine. She grimaced and rolled her eyes once the small brunette stopped in front of them, grinning. "How good to see you! I'm sure you remember me."

"Unfortunately." She muttered, falling into the bar stool. Brittany's face was blank but her mouth was wide in what was supposed to be a cheery smile. Santana was confident the girl was a still traumatized by the midgets appearance a few weeks back. A simple-minded woman like her should never be within miles of Rachel. Then again, Santana believed no one deserved the agony of being in the same room as Berry.

Rachel brushed thick strands of hair over her shoulder, "Well, I do make quite the impression. So how have you been, girls? Enjoying the party?"

"I'm going to go dance!" Brittany announced abruptly. Santana did a double take and gawked at her. The blonde smiled apologetically, made a small gesture towards Rachel with her eyes, and retreated into the thick crowds.

"Great, now how the hell am I suppose to find her?" Santana turned her piercing eyes to the smaller woman and sneered, "Why are you still here?"

"Just wanted to tell you that if you need anything of assistance just contact me and I'll be sure to help."

Santana played the words again in her head, "Are you asking to have sex with me again?"

Rachel blanched, "What? No!" She looked extremely offended. "That was a one time thing with a woman and though you truly satisfied my needs, I'm sorry to say that I don't necessarily swing that way." Santana continued to glare at her. She leaned in more, "This party was hosted by me." When she got no positive response from Santana, she corrected herself, "As in, I planned the whole thing. In tribute to lesbians! It's part of my 'Rachel Berry Gives Back to All Minorities of Los Angeles Week' here at the club." Santana's eyes only narrowed, "Tomorrow is Muslim night, alcohol-free!"

"I feel as though if I continue to stare at you, my eyes will burst into flames." Santana slowly stated.

Rachel gaped at her. Her hand flew to her chest in over exaggerated offense, "That's highly rude of you, Santana, and extremely impossible."

"You suck in bed. Leave." Santana waved her off and expected the woman to do as she said. How silly of her.

"Now, listen to me, Miss Lopez-"

"Oh my God, bye." Forgetting to order a drink, Santana escaped Rachel's hold on her without looking back (by doing so, she believed Rachel would see and follow her everywhere...Brittany did the right thing by leaving immediately).

Now it came down to finding Brittany in the midst of all the grinding, sweaty bodies, because Santana did _not_ want to be alone.

At first, she assumed finding Brittany would take ten minutes, but she was stupid to believe her blonde roommate _wouldn't_ stand out on a dance floor.

It wasn't hard spotting her twenty feet away, dancing fluidly to the beat of the bass. She was so exceptionally talented, the people around her had stopped and stared in awe at her. Even Santana had to stop and collect herself for a minute.

But then, some bitch had to go and ruin Brittany's moment. Santana looked on in bitterness as a tall red-head grabbed Brittany's rotating hips and pulled her close. People started cheering them on, only fueling Brittany's excitement. Her roommate wrapped her arms around the other woman's neck and they began gyrating against one another.

"Oh, fuck no." Santana was stalking towards the objects of her fury before she knew what was going on.

Her hand gripped a pale arm and pulled hard. The woman staggered back, yelping. Her head turned to Santana and before she could get any words out of her mouth, the brunette was silencing her, "Nuh uh, go. Move. Bye."

All Santana received was a glare and the finger, but once Santana was satisfied she had Brittany to herself, she faced her. Brittany was already snaking two arms around her waist with a devilish smirk.

"Well, hello there." She whispered almost seductively in the brunette's ear. "Nice of you to join."

As expected, embarrassment flooded her body. What the hell was she thinking? She wasn't thinking that's what.

She didn't know how to explain her actions, thankfully, she didn't really have to. Brittany was already starting to dance to the newest song. So, not wanting to look like an idiot, Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck and allowed the tall blonde to guide her through the beat.

Her timid movements made it clear she was hesitant even with Brittany's guidance. But the last thing she wanted was Brittany being disappointed in her. Putting all her effort into dancing, Santana hoped she could pull of being her dance partner.

Uncertainty aside, it was incredibly sexy how Brittany allowed the music to move her, the way she thrust, twirled, fucking _dropped _against her...Santana was in for a hell of a ride. Brittany was born to dance. With her back to Santana's front, Brittany grounded her ass against her. She let out a throaty moan.

Soon, their hands were moving everywhere, no restraints. For once, Santana wasn't ashamed. All she felt was Brittany, Brittany, _Brittany. _They moved in sync to the loud speakers, basking in the attention they were getting from fellow dancers around them.

Brittany's breath hit her cheek and Santana's eyes flickered close. A thigh slipped between two legs and a moan was released, but neither girls cared less who it came from.

"Shit..." Santana muttered, bringing Brittany impossibly close. Brittany's grip on her hip only tightened.

"I know," was the shaky response.

The music no longer mattered, Santana's attention was solely focused on the delicious curve of Brittany's thigh. She never knew dancing could feel this good.

But she needed to get closer, though their bodies were mashed together, limbs intertwined, Santana needed more.

Her hand came behind Brittany and grasped the back of the blonde's neck. In a split second, their lips collided together in a frenzy.

Brittany groaned against Santana's plump lips and the brunette took that chance to slip her tongue in, needing more contact. The feeling of Brittany's lips was absolutely smooth, and Santana couldn't help but kiss her over and over again until Brittany was left panting.

Brittany pulled back slightly to whisper, "Follow me."

Santana was fucking glad because taking Brittany in the middle of a dance floor wouldn't be so ideal.

And so wasn't the smallest bathroom stall in the back of the club, but it would have to do considering the two of them were soaking wet and unable to bear being separated any longer.

Santana practically shoved Brittany against the door stall and attacked her bruised lips once again. Swallowing moans of an alcohol and cherry chap stick tasting mouth, Santana was sure it was the best taste ever.

The blonde's breathing was ragged, almost as if she'd rather be kissing Santana for the rest of her life than take a single gulp of air. For the sake of Brittany, Santana pulled away, quick to start nibbling and biting at her neck.

"Santana," Brittany gasped. The ripples on her stomach contracted against Santana's hands as she took an intake of much needed air. "I..."

A hand traveled further north Brittany's lithe torso, cupping a breast, squeezing them fully. She felt Brittany's nipples stiffening under her palm and the sensation drove her crazy. A need to feel the hardened peak in her mouth overcame her. She kissed her way down Brittany's smooth flesh until she had a nipple rolling against her tongue. Brittany mewled and grabbed at her hair in response.

"I need you." She exclaimed as the brunette sucked and picked at her breast.

Santana could feel the tell-tale sign of a ruined pantie. It was really no surprise when she had a goddess like Brittany, a quivering mess, pinned up against a bathroom wall.

Brittany rocked her hip against Santana and Santana moaned embarrassingly loud. Brittany was getting impatiend, and Santana knew she had a job here to finish, but she couldn't find it within her to move away from the perky, delicious breast. She was having too much fun with it.

"Santana!" With a painful tug of her hair Santana snapped out of it. She connected their lips once more and ran her tongue along the blonde's upper lip.

"I have an idea, you in?" She murmured.

"No. Just put your fingers in me, now." Brittany did a poor attempt at grabbing Santana's hand. The Latina smirked.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Before Brittany could wonder what she had just indirectly agreed to, Santana was stripping her lower body. Her lustful eyes watched as an underwear flew across the stall, hitting the edge of the toilet.

Santana dipped her hand under a pale thigh, finally able to hoist Brittany's long, right leg.

Brittany hissed as cold hair hit her throbbing center, but Santana was quick to distract her. "Hold my leg."

Not one to turn down a request that bold, Brittany easily complied, trusting Santana would bring them the ultimate satisfaction. With a leg hanging in the air, and Santana's wrapped tightly around her waist, the two let out the longest of hisses when their heats met in the middle.

Santana buried her face into Brittany's neck, "Fuck..."

The blonde was too enthralled by what was happening with each thrust of their hips to form coherent words. It was a maddening pace that, at first, started slow, then begun to increase in tempo. They paid no mind to any occupants in the other stalls, moaning and screaming from the pleasure.

Santana felt as though she was on some drug, unable to let go, wanting more and more. She angled herself better and thrust higher, hitting Brittany's center with unrelenting force. "Shit."

"I'm about to-" Brittany's right arm held on stronger to Santana's waist, "San!"

She felt Brittany shake uncontrollably against her, letting out the sexiest of moans. Soon, it was her turn to tumble over the edge, gripping Brittany as though she were her lifeline, confident she was leaving marks all over pale skin.

Both their legs slipped from loosening grips. Santana felt like slumping against Brittany and taking a long ass nap, but she was positive Brittany didn't have the strength to catch her. She didn't find the idea of falling to the nasty, tiled ground very appealing.

Their dark, cloudy eyes met as each of their lungs battled for air. It was Brittany who smiled bashfully at Santana. The only response the brunette came up with was to kiss her sweetly on the lips briefly.

"Damn," Brittany said breathlessly after they arranged themselves properly and exited the compartment.

Santana hummed in approval, eyes on the faucet washing her hands. She was aware of the silly smile on her face and didn't care.

"You're amazing." Santana looked into the mirror at Brittany's reflection and saw something that caught her off guard. It was the freaking expression on the blonde's face. She's never seen someone watch her like that before. As though she were something precious and awe-inspiring. Despite herself, Santana felt an explosion of butterflies in her stomach.

She tripped over the next few words, "So, you- you wanna go back out there? Get a drink?"

Brittany snapped out of her trance, "Fuck yeah!" She fist pumped.

Giggling, Santana followed her dorky roommate out the bathroom. On their way down the less crowded hallway, the pair ran into a couple heading the opposite direction. Brittany automatically apologized while Santana basically ignored everyone around her. It wasn't until she noticed Brittany no longer beside her that she stopped and turned back.

Her heart plummeted.

"You're Santana's roommate, aren't you?" Brenda smiled coyly at Brittany's surprised form.

At a distance away, Santana watched the exchange with a renewed sense of doom. Something bad was going to happen, she could fucking feel it.

"Yeah, she's right there." Brittany pointed to Santana, her face clear of any previous cheer she had. Brenda followed her finger.

"Oh, I didn't see you there." Brenda stepped forward. "I feel like I bump into you every time I step out of the apartment. Must be some kind of weird cosmic fate."

Santana could only give her a weird, awkward smile shrug, her eyes too busy flickering behind Brenda's shoulder. "Or maybe just plain coincidence. Say, we're kind of in a rush-"

"Wait, so what happened the other night?"

Santana faltered and swallowed hard. _Why the fuck was this bitch bringing this shit up now of all times?_ Santana could visibly see Brittany's expression falling with each word Brenda uttered. "I don't know. I need to-"

"Was it something I said? I'm sorry if I freaked you out. But it really seemed like you needed a bit of company. " Brenda seemed genuinely concerned and it was hard for Santana to be a hundred percent angry, but she still managed to be.

"It's nothing personal, really."

The other woman shrugged, "If you ever need a place to crash again, just call me." She smirked, "Or if you need a pack of cigarettes, I got plenty. Don't be shy."

And _that _was what Santana was fearing.

The look of realization upon Brittany's face. Santana could see it all clicking for her. That specific night, the morning she smelled of cigarettes, sleeping on the other bed. _Their _perfect night being ruined by Santana's insecurities.

Brenda bade her farewell and walked off, leaving a distraught Brittany and an apologetic brunette, "Brittany, I can explain."

"Wait, where did you go that night?" Her tone lacked any emotion Santana could place her hope on.

"I was just taking a breather and happened to bump into her." _Not completely true. _

"What did she mean by 'crash _again_'? Don't we live in the same complex?" Brittany wouldn't even meet her eyes.

"She offered me her bed since I was being all-" Fuck. She couldn't say it. Finishing that sentence would basically admit all her inner turmoil. But the expression Brittany was dawning left her body aching.

"Did you say 'yes'?"

Santana closed her eyes on instinct.

It was all the answer Brittany needed. All Brittany needed to stalk pass her, silent with the exception of a disappointed sigh.

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><p><strong>I promise next chapter we'll get a little more insight on Brittany's feelings.<strong>

**A few notes, I wanted to thank you all once again for your unbelievable feedback. **

**Every single one of your reviews made my world. The prompts you guys gave me after my request were amazing. I have a few ideas for the coming chapters. **

**Specifically though, I wanted to dedicate this chapter to valerie and 'anon'. They requested bathroom sex at the club and jealousy so I did a combination of the two.**

**Sooooo many of you requested a specific kink, I think you all know what ;) Look forward to that.**

**Also, I want to say thanks to all the people who offered to be my beta, I felt so freaking bad turning a lot of people down. But I did my pick and wanted to thank Sabrina and Kate :) **

**P.S. I feel the Brittana fandom is going to be hit with an onslaught of cries, feelings and 'I can't evens' with the next few episodes coming up. SO FREAKING EXCITED. **


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**Hi. Yeah, you might want to refresh your memory and read the previous chapters...I don't own Glee.**

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><p><em>Two hours and still no presence.<em>

_It was a bit comical, the whole ordeal. Santana wasn't sure why she still cared, it was obvious the woman was never going to show up**.** She probably drove by the apartment complex, saw how horrendous it was and quickly drove away. She couldn't blame the woman for doing so. She, herself, had nearly done the same back when she was apartment hunting. This place was the best she could afford, so she swallowed her pride and decided to take the apartment. _

_Just when Santana gave up on waiting, there was a loud knock on the door._

_"You've gotta be kidding me." She muttered under her breath. Despite how annoyed she was, she let out a deep sigh, straightened her dress (at least something had to look nice), scanned the room for any out-of-place items, and prayed to God that whoever was on the other side of the door wasn't a weirdo or creep._

_She slowly opened the door, giving herself a few moments for the erratic beating in her heart to slow and soak in the other person's appearance._

_Finally, when the barrier was no longer separating them, the stranger, the extremely attractive female stranger, smiled in relief, "Oh thank God you're hot."_

_Santana faltered at the sudden words, perplexed beyond belief. It was strange, considering she was slightly thinking the same thing about the blonde before her, but at least she had the decency not to say it out loud. The comment, though, was not unwelcome._

_Narrowing her eyes and refusing to show how flustered she felt, the irritated brunette stepped aside, "You must be Brittany. You're late."_

_Brittany walked- more like skipped- into the apartment._

_"I forgot the difference between North and East and ended up in the Valley." Santana eyed her weirdly. The Valley was miles and miles away._

_"Where did you come from?"_

_"Downtown. Oh, that's the cutest kitchen ever!"_

_Excusing her clear lack of direction, Santana studied Brittany as she examined the room with enthusiastic eyes. Her eyes travelled down a cute blouse that hung loosely over what was clearly a well-toned body. She gulped as they continued down to meet tiny jean shorts, clinging tightly to the nicest ass Santana had ever seen. Her legs nearly gave out when her eyes finally finished their descent, meeting incredibly, long, smooth, tan legs that went on for miles._

_How she was blessed with such an existence in her home, Santana couldn't understand._

_"This is like the coolest place ever. I'll take it...or I guess share it." Brittany's voice came through her silent worshipping._

_Santana blinked, "Wait, what?"_

_Brittany gasped, looking towards the hall, "There's a bedroom, too? Can I see it?" She was now bouncing up and down on her heels energetically. _

_Santana was rendered speechless, still too bewildered by the blonde's sudden decision to form a coherent answer. Santana didn't know being speechless was something she was even capable of. "Uh, yeah." Was she truly _surprised_ there was a bedroom?_

_The blonde ran through the hall and into the bedroom. Santana wasn't far behind, "I was planning on sharing the bedroom. You know, setting up your bed on that side," she pointed to the right, "If that's okay..."_

_"No, that's great! But you know what would be awesome? If we just got a king-sized bed and shared it."_

_Santana couldn't tell whether the other woman was serious. She blinked, laughed, and turned their attention to the bathroom, "So this is clearly the bathroom. Um, it's not much, same could be said for the whole place, but after awhile everything feels cozy and just right. I promise you'll be satisfied." That was all pure bullshit, but anything to get the place sold._

_Brittany beamed, "I trust you. This is going to be so cool. When can I move in?"_

_She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. "Seriously? You're not even going to think it throu- I mean, Friday! You can move in by Friday. I just need to get some stuff cleared with my landlord." She went along with Brittany's quick decision, because any further questions on her part could probably place some doubts in the other's head. _

_After all, she was desperate. And as they say; beggars can't be choosers._

_"Oh!" Brittany jumped in realization, "I'm suppose to give you this or something. My friend told me it's good that you get a background check."_

_It never occurred to Santana to seek this information from her potential roommate. She felt incredibly idiotic. "Oh, right." She took the paper from Brittany's hand. In a fleeting moment, their hands brushed and Santana felt the heat from Brittany's touch shooting straight up her arm, and then down past her belly. She gasped lightly and stepped back. It felt like an electric current had run through her. Brittany smirked at her._

_She should have realized then how screwed she would be in the months to come. _

_Clearing her throat, she looked over the document. Something caught her eye, "It says here you were...arrested once?"_

_Brittany's puzzled expression made Santana turn the paper over and point at the section. "Oh, that. It wasn't my fault. The people at the store thought it was okay to trap a baby duckling in their building."_

_"...And?"_

_"And so I took it from them and released it into the nearest pond. It was the only logical solution." Brittany explained with a simple shrug._

_For the millionth time in less than ten minutes, Santana was at loss for words. This woman seemed so out there, all quirky and weird, Santana was afraid to admit she was having second thoughts._

_But it only took a quick once over of the blonde to shut the doubts in a small corner of her mind and smile, "Well at least you had good intentions...?" _

_The blonde nodded, "That's what I said. Once I got out, I was planning on doing it again, for the ducks, you know? But also for Shonda, my cell-mate. I missed hanging out with her. She had really colorful drawings on her skin that she let me trace and play with. Sort of like a maze."_

_"Do you know how to cook?" This new piece of information regarding the blonde's life behind bars went completely over her head._

_"I can boil water."_

_"Good. Definitely good." Santana nodded her head in self-assurance. "Do you have a job?"_

_"I dance. Got a full time job at a dance studio in the city." There was a gleam of pride in her blue eyes._

_Santana quirked an eyebrow, "That's very interesting. Dancing is good." Dancing was excellent. "Any allergies?"_

_"Violence."_

_"Good answer." Santana was the least violent person ever, even though she may terrorize her next door neighbor every so often just out of sheer boredom, but that was only for self-defense. Little old men were always up to no good. "Favorite hobbies?"_

_"Mouse hunting, gargling peroxide for hours at a time, and dancing naked on rooftops."_

_Santana stared wildly at her in what she hoped Brittany translated to excitement, "Same!"_

_"Really?" Brittany stepped closer._

_"Yes. Brittany Pierce, I feel like you and I will get along just swimmingly." That was probably the hardest sentence she'd ever said, but somehow she managed to spit it out with a fake smile. For the sake of money._

_"I don't know how to swim, but thank you so much!" Brittany tackled Santana in the middle of the hallway, hugging her for all she was worth. Santana felt her eyes bulge out of her head from the sheer pressure. "I'm sure you had a hundreds of people dying to live here, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"_

_No, she really didn't. But no one had to know, right?_

_Santana let out a long self-loathing sigh as Brittany rocked them back and forth. _

_Who was she kidding? They weren't going to get along _swimmingly_, her plan to convince herself otherwise was a stupid one. Yeah, sure, Brittany was the hottest chick she'd ever seen, and possibly the hottest one to ever exist, but she naive and a bit outlandish, and, without a doubt, the complete opposite of Santana._

_She could already picture their future. Santana's ideal roommate would keep to themselves, but Brittany would want to hang out every minute of the day. Judging from her innocent manners, the blonde would probably criticize her way of living (bringing someone home every night) and lecture her on the safety of protection and knowing your partner. Some sort of shit like that..._

_Taking on Brittany Pierce as her roommate could possibly end up being the worst decision of her life._

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><p>"Brittany, Brittany, wait!" People kept blocking her way from the retreating figure. "Move outta my way!" She growled at an innocent bystander.<p>

She saw Brittany exiting the building and picked up her pace. Once out, she quickly scanned her surroundings, looking for any sign of blonde hair. Her eyes found the tall blonde walking rapidly up the sidewalk. It was a good distance away, so she had no choice but to run after her.

"Brittany!" The blonde still refused to turn around, even though she was well within hearing distance. Less than a foot away now, Santana took the initiative and grasped the blonde's swinging arm. She forcefully turned her roommate around. "Look at me."

Anything she was going to say died on her lips at the sight of Brittany's crestfallen expression. Her face was red, but not from crying. In fact, Brittany looked angry and a bit annoyed. "What?" She hissed.

Santana opened her mouth, then closed it just as quick. Her words were failing her as they often did in the presence of her roommate. After what felt like an hour to Santana, Brittany shook her head at her roommate's silence and made a move to turn around.

"Wait, Brittany." She heard herself speak again. There must have been a disconnect somewhere between her brain and her mouth, because she had no control of what she was saying, and wasn't even sure what exactly she was asking Brittany to wait for. Fortunately, Brittany stopped walking, giving Santana silent permission to say what was on her mind. "Brittany please, just talk to me? I have...I have no idea what's going on."

Santana's voice sounded weak and defeated, but she was actually grateful for it; she wanted Brittany to understand how hopeless and utterly confused she felt.

Although subconsciously she knew exactly what was going on, she was scared to admit it to herself, or anyone else. _She _was afraid of facing it. That was why she yearned for Brittany to explain everything. Because she knew that if anyone in the world could answer her questions, it was Brittany.

"I'm angry."

Santana would have missed the small, quiet confession if her senses hadn't already been heightened from the adrenaline. She wanted to laugh at the simplicity, though, there really was no humor behind Brittany's statement.

"Okay. I understand." She nodded in reassurance. "I'm sorry..." The apology was pathetic and completely useless, but it was the truth.

Brittany was staring at the ground, toes scraping a dark spot on the concrete. "I thought we were going somewhere."

Santana's heart fluttered. It was increasingly becoming harder to breathe, and she had to take several deep breaths to compose herself.

"I'm angry because...because after the most incredible night of my life..." Now Brittany's tears were falling down her face freely, "Not even twenty-four hours later, you go and sleep with some other woman."

"Britt, no-" Her hand reached out, longing to touch Brittany, any part of Brittany, for the sake of her sanity, but the blonde just flinched back, losing eye contact. It stung. "I _never, ever_ slept with her. You have to trust me, B."

Brittany sniffed and gazed back at her briefly, "But you were going to."

"No!" She didn't understand why Brittany was so angry with her about this. "I entered her apartment and left just as quickly." Her voice lowered to a whisper, trying not to sound angry herself, "Britt, why are you mad at me? I mean, you're the one who gave me her number in the first place."

Both of them already knew the answer; it was just a matter of who was going to say it first.

"Because I never thought..." Her voice faltered. She pursed her lips in silence.

Santana itched to reach out for her, to erase the pain in her eyes. But she knew she shouldn't. She felt a disconnect with Brittany and until her heart stopped hurting, crossing her arms in front of her chest was the next best thing. "You never thought what?"

A hundred different emotions passed through Brittany's blue eyes like a storm, a complete contrast to the calm she normally found there.

"Im not mad at you." Brittany chose to address Santana's previous question. "I'm mad at myself." Her shoulders slumped and standing before Santana, the brunette knew that the next few words that would leave Brittany's lips could further change their relationship.

"I'm mad at myself for falling for someone who doesn't like me as much as I like them." Brittany let out a shaky breath, "But even though I knew this, I still tried."

Santana couldn't take her eyes off of Brittany's tear-soaked face. The brunette was so transfixed that she didn't even flinch when a large truck passed them, blaring its horn loudly.

Brittany bowed her head and let out a small chuckle, then gazed back at Santana. Her fingers twitched nervously at her side, "I made us do that whole roommates with benefits thing. I was telling the truth when I admitted that I had always wanted to...sleep with you. But it's more than that. From the first day I met you, a part of me always wanted to become closer to you." Her jaws clenched tightly for a moment, then she spoke again with more conviction, "I wanted to become closer to you in everyway, but being friends just wasn't enough. I thought you felt the same, so I stopped having one-night stands, hoping that without the distractions, maybe something real would happen between us.

Santana was so busy soaking up Brittany's words that she didn't realise the other woman was practically sobbing.

"I always do this." Brittany cried. Her hand came up to wipe away falling tears, an action Santana wished she could have done herself, "I always go for something I can't have." She hiccuped. "I'm sorry. I'm not making any sense..."

"No, Brittany, _no_..." She couldn't believe it. After all these months, after all the confusion, the fucks, the steps Santana made, the steps back, the sleepless nights thinking everything over...Brittany really thought_ she _didn't want_ her?_ "Goddamn it."

Santana did the only plausible thing she could think of. She reached out towards Brittany's face, seizing it, almost roughly, between her hands, and slammed her full red lips against the blonde's thinner pink ones.

Brittany gasped into her mouth at the sudden onslaught, but quickly returned the kiss, bringing her cold hands over the brunette's cheeks. This gentle action was such a stark contrast to the way Santana initiated the contact, she couldn't help but melt into it. The initial force of the kiss dispersed, leaving the two women sighing into it.

Santana couldn't wrap her mind around how perfectly their lips fit together. Brittany was the best kisser in the history of kissing, that much was clear, but it didn't make sense that this amazing woman was kissing _her_. How did she get so lucky?

The brunette chose not to ponder over her luck, not with Brittany pressed up against her, deepening the kiss deliciously. Brittany had lips that vaguely tasted like sweet cherries. They were so incredibly irresistible, Santana found herself humming in pleasure. She would never get tired of kissing this woman. Never.

"Mmm, Santana..." The blonde mumbled against plump, luscious lips.

But the Latina refused to back down, continuously pecking her lips just as Brittany began to pull back. "San..."

Santana sighed throatily, "No, shh..." Her lips traveled past the corner of Brittany's mouth, up to pink tinted cheeks. "Stay like this." She laid dozens of chaste kisses across her roommate's face, travelling up to her forehead, grazing it briefly, then journeying down to her slightly red nose. Brittany sighed at the pressure of Santana's compelling lips on her skin.

Unbeknownst to herself, Brittany was simply glowing. Whether it be from happiness, or the warmth of Santana's breath against her skin, the brunette could feel the happiness radiating off the blonde.

Santana didn't really have a reason for her actions, the only thing she she focused on was making sure Brittany understood how much she wanted her too. That Brittany had absolutely no reason to think Santana was not interested in her. They meant so much to each other, but never realized the feelings were reciprocated.

"You don't even understand how much I..." She inhaled sharply. Brittany bumped their foreheads lightly.

_Say it, just fucking say it. _

But before Santana could utter any life-altering confessions, a couple of men walked passed them. They whistled crudely at the proximity of their bodies and lips, breaking the trance the two women were caught up in.

Santana scoffed at their reaction, while Brittany's eyes followed them down the street with a hint of a frown.

Knowing what her roommate was thinking, Santana cradled her cheek once more and brought Brittany's attention back, "Let's go home."

"But-"

Santana kissed her lips quickly, "Trust me."

Brittany looked at her with all the trust she could muster, filling Santana's heart with all kinds of feelings. The brunette took her hand and Brittany smiled widely, "Okay."

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><p>If someone had told Santana in back high school that in a couple of years she'd be living in an apartment smaller than her room, dealing with loans and debts far greater than what she'd imagine, and working at a minimum wage job, she'd, well...believe them.<p>

But if someone told Santana that she'd be dealing with those things while having the most amazing, beautiful woman loving her and being there for her, she would punch them in the face.

But, even someone as hopeless as her deserved some good in her life.

"Are you one-hundred percent Latina?" Brittany asked.

Santana had to laugh at the random question, "Not completely, I'm three-fourths Puerto Rican and one-quarter African American."

They were a tangled mess of legs and arms, draped across Santana's small bed. The lack of space forced them to lay on their sides with absolutely no room between their bodies. They didn't mind, of course; it was probably something they would have done anyway, even on the biggest mattress in the world.

Their proximity granted Santana access to kiss Brittany's face as often as she pleased.

After walking side by side, almost a bit shyly, down the streets of Los Angeles, they climbed the stairs up to their apartment, where the couple spent the rest of the evening huddled close together in bed with nothing but undergarments.

Based on how unkempt and disastrous Brittany's hair was, Santana could only imagine how wild her weave stood. It made sense though, they did make out like bunnies at the club before and on the street...

Santana also understood they still had unfinished..._feelings_ to share. And she was very aware of the fact that even after everything that happened today, after confessing their feelings (showing, in Santana's case), neither of them had actually _said_ those three little words.

"You know, not too long ago I used to think I was a french duck." Brittany stated coyly.

The brunette grinned widely, "And who says you aren't?"

"Apparently being_ Dutch_ doesn't mean I'm half french, half duck."

Santana traced her cheekbone with a thumb, still wearing an amused expression. "I see what you did there. But wouldn't a half-french, half-duck be called a...Freck?"

Brittany scrunched her nose up adorably, "That sounds like freckles and I hate freckles. They make me look like I have skin problems, especially in the summer."

"What?" Santana half yelled, "I freaking love them. Yours especially. Don't make make me kiss every single one. I will do it."

Brittany laughed, wrapping her arms around the brunettes neck, "That would take forever. They're everywhere...and I mean _everywhere_." Brittany said in a sly manner.

Santana's lip twitched and her eyes narrowed seductively at the blonde's implications, "Like I said, I will do it."

"Later." Brittany said, "Right now I just want to cuddle."

Santana hummed in agreement, scooting so impossibly close to the blonde that the tips of their noses brushed. Brittany's breath tickled tastefully against her lips. She pecked her swiftly, only once, just because.

Brittany smiled almost shyly. It filled Santana's heart with such content knowing she produced that. She didn't realize it until recently, but bringing happiness to Brittany meant everything to her.

"You mean everything to me." She blurted out. Loving the way Brittany blushed at the sentiment, Santana briefly marvelled at her own boldness. So much had changed in so little time. The threat of losing Brittany really did a job on her. "Don't forget that okay? I just wish I can _show_ you how much." As an afterthought, she added, "And put it into words without being such a chicken."

Brittany sighed contently, "It may not seem like it, but I'm still in shock so anything more than this would probably give me a heart attack. There's only so much love my heart can take."

Santana's heart momentarily stopped beating and her body tensed up. The temperature of the room seemed to climb up at an accelerated speed. She even felt a bit dizzy. But the obvious surprise and regret on Brittany's face forced her to calm down. She took a breath, trying to steady herself from what the dancer just said. God, when will she ever learn to play it cool at the mention of love?

"I won't say it if it makes you uncomfortable." Brittany whispered. Her eyes searched Santana's face for any further negative reaction.

"No, no." Santana shook her head, "I'm happy. I am. I just need a more time. I can-" Her throat was closing up as usual. How did she get from being the confident, sure woman on the sidewalk to this babbling, flustered girl in less than an hour?

It took her a moment to realize Brittany was shushing her, "Shh, I know. I know. And you don't understand how proud I am. Santana," her hands reached up to palm her cheek, "I don't need you to say or show me anything. It's written in your eyes, everything you feel about me. I was an idiot before for not noticing completely, before. And you too. For not realizing how much I adore you and your pretty face."

Santana chuckled. She mentally thanked Brittany for choosing her words carefully, preventing Santana from going into another emotional breakdown. "We are quite the pair."

"We are an awesome pair." Brittany corrected cutely. Santana couldn't help but lean up and kiss her one more time.

"Give me time. I swear I'll make it up to you, but all I'm asking for is time. I can do this and I'm not going to mess up so you have to trust me." The words rushed passed her lips before she could think them through. Opening herself up to Brittany on her feelings and emotions completely was going to be difficult, but it was a road she was willing to embark on.

"I can wait. I'll wait forever if it means I can spend every moment with you." Brittany positively radiated.

"You don't have to worry since you're stuck with me in this tiny apartment...unless you move out; which would suck a lot." She shuddered at the possibility.

"Hmmm..." Brittany's contemplative expression earned the blonde a whack on the shoulder. "Just kidding!"

"Let's get some rest." Santana said, wrapping her arms more tightly around Brittany's shoulder.

"Boo..." Brittany complained, though she made no physical protest. Santana knew how tired she was, but it was obvious Brittany wanted to continue cuddling and speaking intimately to one another. Not that she wasn't desiring the same, but tomorrow was going to be a long day.

"Hush, we both have work tomorrow." Santana closed her eyes, just then realizing how exhausted she was.

"Fine. But you're making pancakes tomorrow." Brittany stated. Her voice was dripping with exhaustion, eyes closing slowly.

"Deal."

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><p><strong>Hey guys! It's been a while and it's completley my fault. I lost all inspiration for this story a while ago and only recently did I gain my motivation back. But during my hiatus I did start on another Brittana fic that I'm excited to get out once this is done. So hopefully everyone is interested. <strong>

**This story does have a few chapters left, including the one with the kink you guys requested ( I haven't forgotten). I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was pretty difficult to write...too many feelings.**

**I wanted to sent out many, many thanks to my Beta who helped me so much on this! Thank you! **


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